


Water Under The Bridge

by princesskay



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Breaking Up & Making Up, Declarations Of Love, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Mutual Pining, Porn with Feelings, Post-Endgame, things get worse before they get better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-14 02:33:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10527021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princesskay/pseuds/princesskay
Summary: A year after Voyager's return from the Delta Quadrant, the crew reunited in San Francisco for the opening of the Voyager Museum. Past emotions and grievances are laid bare as Kathryn and Chakotay are forced to face what made them go their separate ways, and the feelings they still have for each other





	1. Chapter 1

Soothing strains of Chopin rippled from the speakers of the car, an auditory comfort to combat the visual of San Francisco’s Golden Gate Bridge looming above the city lights. The peaks of the glinting, red bridge pierced a fading blue sky, rimmed with dusty pink and purple. It was beautiful but not quite a sight for sore eyes. 

Kathryn consulted the padd nestled in her lap, hoping for new notifications from a student or even Starfleet Command to momentarily give her amnesia about where she was headed. The screen displayed the same information as the last time she had checked. 

She released a sigh from deep in her chest, and gave her shoulders a shake to loosen the tension. Her throat felt constricted beneath the jewel-studded collar of her evening gown, an ensemble she’d let someone else choose for her. The only line she’d drawn with the Starfleet stylist, Frida, was the four inch heels the woman had proposed. She’d commanded from a solid pair of boots, and she could attend a party - even the most extravagant one Federation brass could manage - in a pair of solid  _ one inch _ heels as well. 

“Five minutes, captain.” Her driver reported, casting a warning gaze in the rear view mirror. 

“Thank you.” She murmured. 

Lifting an anxious hand to her hair, she patted the French twist coiled against the back of her head. Not a single hair was out of place, just another detail Frida had dutifully attended to. 

Her chest fluttered as the ancient stone walls and rows upon rows of glistening windows of the Palace Hotel came into view. Her hands were suddenly sweating around the padd, and she couldn’t very well wipe them on her silk gown. 

Christ, she’d faced down the Borg, the Vidiians, the Hirogen, Species 8472, and a myriad of other villains in the Delta Quadrant, but a party was going to be the death of her. Not just any party - a reunion party. Her crew. Her family. She should be happier to see all of them. 

She’d stayed in contact with almost all of them. A few had slipped through the cracks, but she assured herself that wasn’t to be blamed on her. She’d reached out, tried to smooth things over. Unfortunately, her conscious wasn't so easily assuaged.

The hover car glided down the foliage lined path to the front of the regal Palace Hotel, and came to a stop just in front of the door. The building had hosted a number of Federation parties, and Kathryn could recall coming here with her father when she was young. Now she was here, as the centerpiece rather than the accessory. She was the hero - the formidable Captain Janeway … soon to be Admiral. Her daddy would be proud. 

Mustering her confidence, she scooted across the seat as her driver opened the door. The man extended his hand to help her down. 

Kathryn stepped out into the warm evening air, breathing in the scent of the flowers bursting from the beds along the front of the hotel. The sunset was fading quickly, but she hardly took a moment to notice the last bits of color that clung to the evening. 

She muttered a thanks to the driver, and approached the front doors of the Palace Hotel with her chin lifted high. Two Starfleet employees dressed to the nines in formal tuxedos greeted her, and opened the door. 

“Captain Janeway, welcome to the Palace Hotel.”

“Thank you.” She said, nodding to the man who’d opened the door for her. 

As she crossed the threshold, the hum of the throng reached her ears. Under the tide of voices, live orchestral music brought class and formality to the setting. In the lobby, a crowd milled, dozens of species conversing. 

The silence started with a few Starfleet Admirals who looked up and noticed her, and the reaction quickly spread throughout the entire room. In a matter of seconds, all eyes were on her. 

Kathryn blinked at all of them, suddenly self-conscious in the silver evening gown and diamond earrings Frida had goaded her into. The dress was a halter-top, with only the studded collar around her throat anchoring the chest-piece to the front of her. She’d argued for a brief moment before considering the other options the stylist gave her. At least this dress only gave the whole crowd a view of her shoulders and back instead of an eye-full of cleavage like all the other choices. 

“Gentlemen.” Kathryn said. 

She swept past them, scraping together her confidence and ease. She didn’t mind them staring - she’d dealt with it all her life. What bothered her was the the entire affair - a party in her honor when she’d done nothing to deserve it. They were all gazing at heras  if she’d done the insurmountable, the incredible, the inhuman … When, in fact, she’d only done what was right - bring her crew home. 

As Kathryn made her way across the lobby, the ripples of conversation began to reestablish. Thankful for their disregard, she hastened her stride toward the double doors that led into the dining hall. Her gaze was fixed on those doors when, from the corner of her eye, she caught a familiar profile that brought her to a grinding halt. 

He was standing off to the side of the double doors, engaged in light conversation with Harry Kim and Tom Paris. A glass of champagne rested untouched in his hand. He was dressed in a black blazer and a burnt orange shirt with a slim collar. His hair was neatly combed back, as black as she recalled except for the hints of silver creeping in along his temples. He smiled as he spoke to Tom and Harry, his eyes crinkling in their endearing way, his dimple appearing at the corner of his mouth. 

For a moment, the world stopped spinning and the sound of conversation faded to dull white noise. She could hear the thudding of her heartbeat like a drumroll, her breaths coming swift and shallow, one after the other. 

And then he turned, as if sensing her gaze on him, perhaps still as attuned to the ebb and flow of her presence as she was to his. 

Their gazes met across the room, searching and connecting like two pieces of a puzzle. The smile faded from his mouth, leaving his lips a thinly curved line of conflicted emotion. A frown tugged at his brow. 

_ What’s wrong? Aren’t you happy to see me . . . Please, be happy to see me.  _

Kathryn startled back into motion as he began to stride across the room. Her first thought was to flee, and that alone made her heart twist in pain. Had it been so long that they’d spoken that she couldn’t even consider them friends any longer? Where had all the time gone? She’d spent it all thinking of him, and wondering why they’d left it the way they had. 

“Kathryn.” 

His voice cut through the commotion like ether. Her eyelashes fluttered. 

_ Be strong.  _

“Commander.” 

His brows tightened at the formal reply, but the smooth motion of his hand reaching for her shoulders didn’t pause. She clenched her jaw as the warmth of his palm settled on her bare shoulder, gently dragging her to him. As he leaned in, she could smell his cologne. 

He kissed her briefly on the cheek, his lips leaving her skin burning even with the slightest contact. 

“It’s good to see you.” He murmured. 

His voice was like rainfall in the desert, the dry, aching dust of her soul absorbing every tiny droplet.

She steadied herself with a quick breath, hoisting the weight from her chest long enough to breathe. 

“You too.” She said, “It’s been awhile.”

“Too long.” He noted with a dip of his head. “You looking stunning.”

Her hand instinctively went to her hair neck, as if to suppress the flush threatening to engulf her face.

“Thank you. You should know, I objected entirely to this dress, but the stylist twisted my arm.”

“I’m glad she did.”

Kathryn pursed her lips. 

_ He’s just being kind, like he always is.  _

“Where’s Seven?” She asked, struggling to sound casual and objective. 

She glanced surreptitiously around the lobby, but didn't catch a glimpse of her statuesque, blond friend. 

“I’m sure she’s here somewhere.” He replied. 

Kathryn noted the strained shift in his expression, the clench of his jaw at Seven’s name. There was something there, though she didn’t trust herself to speculate objectively. 

“Listen, Kathryn,” He said, touching her elbow, “After dinner, we need to talk. There’s something-”

Before he could continue, the double doors of the dinner hall swept open and the sound of music burst into the lobby.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Starfleet’s Voyager Reunion!” The announcer’s voice blasted through the mic, drawing everyone toward the dinner hall. 

Kathryn looked up to inquire further, but he was already headed into the the hall. She doubted she would be able to speak privately to him again until the night was late and tired. 

 

~

 

It was incredible how one year on Earth could pass so much quicker than a year in space. 

As Chakotay sipped on expensive red wine, he surveyed his crew members seated around the long table at the front of the dinner hall. Some of them had changed in the last year, some of them more than he’d expected. Some of them were just the same. 

          The last year hadn’t been easy. Catching up on all that had happened while they were gone had been a shock, followed by a dozen more shocks visited upon him due his time with the Maquis. He’d spent quite a bit of time with B’Elanna when they returned, answering all the questions Starfleet wanted to hear. It was fortunate for them that they’d  returned after the war was over. Old anger and resentment had dwindled away in the light of the fact that all their friends were dead, the Maquis effectively subdued by the hand of the Cardassians. 

They were free to go. The disapproving Federation brass had finally relented after weeks of questioning. They were even grudgingly offered job postings with Starfleet, but neither of them had accepted. 

Maybe he’d never been fit for Starfleet, but after seven years away from Earth, returning to the rules and regulations with a fresh set of eyes reminded him of why he resigned his commission in the first place. It was all high talk and posturing from people who didn’t understand the real struggles of those on the fringe of society. They loved to speak about how they were an all-inclusive bunch, but he didn’t believe them when all the brass were speaking out of privileged mouths. 

The single bright light in this evening was sitting across the table from him. She had her chair turned around to face the podium, giving him a plain view of her bare shoulders and back. She looked ravishing in the dress her stylist had chosen, despite her objections. The cool silver fabric and the elegant cut fit her. 

A pit of guilt opened up in his belly as he watched the back of her head. While the man behind the podium droned on about the bravery and heroism of the Voyager crew, all he could think about was his own cowardice. He’d taken the easy way out, and now it was coming back to sink it’s razor sharp teeth into his ass. One look from her, and he was finished. Maybe that's why he'd spent the last year avoiding her.

Chakotay took another bolstering drink of wine. The alcohol would be flowing freely tonight, and he was grateful. 

           After the Admiral named Rajan finished his speech, he called the senior crew of Voyager to the stage. 

Chakotay kicked back his chair with a sigh. Time to get this over with. 

They filed onto the stage, and came to stand next to each other before the assembled crowd. He looked out into their smiling faces, filled with awe and respect, and wondered at the ease of reputation. 

Admiral Rajan pinned medals to everyone’s chests. This part of the ceremony was allowed to be recorded by news stations. He fully expected to see this segment integrated into Starfleet’s recruitment propaganda over next several months, just as the homecoming celebration had been a year ago. They would, no doubt, skillfully edit out his face - a former member of the Maquis and a Starfleet defector. 

When they were finally released from the glare of the crowd’s gaze, the Palace Hotel staff members, all dressed in white tuxedos, began to roll out the menu on silver platters. 

One place at the table was noticeably empty. Chakotay almost wished it would stay that way, but just as the plates were being laid out before them, Seven of Nine made her way through the dining hall to their table. She wore a maroon evening gown with a plunging neckline and gold necklace decorated with quarter-sized gemstones. Her hair was pulled into a perfect coif at the back of her head save for a few ringlets framing her jaw. 

Chakotay ducked his head just as she strode around the table, narrowly avoiding her icy gaze. Her eyes could be soft and warm when she so desired, but he’d spent just as much time learning that side of her as he had the side she presented now - the Seven all of them knew. 

He felt her glance graze him before she pulled out the empty chair beside Kathryn. 

“Seven.” 

“Captain, I hope you don’t mind if I take this seat.”

Kathryn stumbled for a moment, before waving generously to the chair. “Of course not. Please sit down.”

As Seven sat down, Kathryn’s sharp blue eyes roamed over her cool expression. 

“Where were you? You missed half the ceremony.” She said. 

“Since I am not officially a part of Starfleet, my name was not included on the roster.” Seven replied. 

“I specifically told them that you were an integral member of the crew.” Kathryn said, irritation coloring her tone. 

“I am not offended.” Seven said, “Medals are unimportant, not to mention a waste of good ore.”

“Of course, but it’s important to me that you be here.”

“I am here now.”

Kathryn’s clenched jaw faded into a smile, and she leaned in to embrace Seven. The women shared a brief hug before drawing back. 

“How have you been?” Kathryn asked. 

The conversation continued from there, but Chakotay lowered his head to block out the sound of their voices. 

There was a thread of frustration in his mind that he was the sole source of conflict between them, but that they only resented him, not each other. Logically, he didn’t want or even expect Kathryn to turn on Seven for what had happened, but perhaps it would have eased his own pitiful misery to see the ice in her veins focused on someone rather than him. 

After the first course was over, conversation around the table became more raucous. They’d all had a couple drinks by now, and Tom was standing up and doing impressions. His Janeway was particularly compelling. 

Chakotay watched as Kathryn doubled over in her seat in laughter at Tom’s skillful impersonation, nearly crying with amusement when he started in on an Admiral or two. Of course, not to be outdone, Harry jumped up to take part in the lively game of charades. 

He couldn’t help but laugh along as the impressions became more and more ridiculous, but by the time Tom was wearing one of the silk napkins on his head, Chakotay had grown weary of the game. 

Watching Kathryn laughing and happy among friends was something he’d once craved. Happiness had been the farthest thing from her reach in the Delta Quadrant, guilt her constant companion. Maybe she’d left that all behind now. Maybe she would allow herself companionship and love. 

Maybe it was too late for him to be that companionship. That thought was the one that made him feel ill instead of joyful, anger instead of amusement. He had no one to blame but himself. 

At last, Chakotay muttered to excuse himself from the table, and made his way out of the dining hall. The lobby was cool and quiet in comparison to the hum of conversation and the stuffy heat of too many bodies inside the dining hall. He breathed out a steadying sigh, and headed for the bathroom. 

The bathroom was silent except for the intermittent ripple of water. Chakotay leaned against the granite counter, letting his breath rattle out low and frustrated into the solitude. The mirror above the sink reflected a weary and terse expression, a man plagued by his own regrets. 

‘Almost’ was the worst thing that could have happened to him. 

They’d been through life and death together, but only almost touched. Almost kissed. Almost admitted their love for each other. Almost. 

He couldn’t help but recall all of the missed chances, the times he could have confessed, the moments he could have taken the initiative. 

It was all water under the bridge now. 

Chakotay startled at the sound of the bathroom door opening. He thrust his hands under the sonic faucet to maintain a facade of normalcy. As the faucet hissed over his hands, Chakotay consulted to the mirror discreetly. 

Tuvok came into view over his shoulder. The Vulcan was dressed in a formal blue tunic with a pendant of the IDIC around his neck. His expression was stoic as usual. 

“Commander.” Tuvok acknowledged him. 

“I see you can’t stand this party any more than I can.” Chakotay replied. 

Tuvok’s eyebrow flickered in subtle agreement. “Indeed. The human need for celebration - especially after an entire year has passed - is illogical.”

“Seven years away from home sounds like a good excuse to celebrate, but I rather just as soon forget about it.” 

“Is there something specific troubling you?” Tuvok asked. 

“What? Are you signing up to be my therapist now?” Chakotay asked, offering a limp smile to prove he was only half-joking. 

“We served together for what humans consider a long time.” Tuvok replied, “I am well aware of your conduct, and whether it is out of the ordinary or not.”

Chakotay released a sigh. He and Tuvok had never been close considering the circumstances they had met under. The fact that Tuvok had joined the Maquis as a spy didn’t disappear because of their time spent together on Voyager, but that wound had faded over time. It still felt strange to confide in him, but Chakotay didn’t have anyone else to speak the chaos of his thoughts to. 

“If we’re being honest, this night couldn’t be over fast enough.” Chakotay said, “I spent seven years of my life with these people. You’d think I’d be happier to see them.”

“Perhaps it’s not all of them that are making you uncomfortable.”

“What makes you say that?” 

“You’ve been focused on the captain all night. And she on you.”

Chakotay choked on his words for a moment. He should have known better than to allow Tuvok to examine him.

“I suppose I should work on my charades like everyone else.” He said, at last, scoffing at his own patheticness. 

He turned to leave the bathroom, but Tuvok’s voice made him pause. 

“Commander, it is illogical that you should so openly lie to Captain Janeway.”

“Lie?” Chakotay asked, turning slowly on his heel to meet Tuvok’s passive gaze. 

“It’s obvious to her, and everyone else if they are as observant as I, that you have not been honest with one another.”

Chakotay blinked at Tuvok for a long moment, flummoxed by the Vulcan’s blatant suggestion. 

“Humans intrigue me.” Tuvok said. “There is no logical reasoning for this impasse. Neither of you are engaged to another person any longer, you feel strongly for each other, and it has been proven time and again that you work well together. I see no logical reason why you shouldn’t be honest with her.”

“Tuvok, it’s not that simple.”

“I find that in many cases, humans are the ones complicating a simple solution.” 

Chakotay huffed, unable to conjure a sensible response. 

“Commander,” Tuvok said, taking a few steps closer, “Captain Janeway is my colleague, my superior, a confidant. She considers me a friend. I felt it necessary for me to speak out on her behalf.”  

“Is this the Vulcan version of ‘if you hurt my friend, I’ll stove your head in’?” Chakotay asked. 

“The situation has not yet called for violence.”

“Yet.” Chakotay echoed. “I’ll keep it in mind.” 

He turned and left the bathroom, his head spinning. 

Not all of the crew were as observant as Tuvok, but he didn’t imagine they were far behind. And Kathryn with them. 

~

 

As the night wore on, Kathryn finished off three glasses of wine, safe with the knowledge that Starfleet had reserved the crew rooms at the hotel for the next three nights. 

She spent most of the evening talking with Seven and B’Elanna. B’Elanna had left her daughter at home with a sitter, but she showed Seven and Kathryn several pictures on her phone. 

While they caught up, Kathryn realized just how many things had changed in the last year. She hadn’t expected this crew to lead such diverse lives after their return home, but that was the natural order of things, she supposed. Not all of them had Starfleet in their veins like she did. 

Her mind was never far from Chakotay, who vacated his seat across the table from her half a dozen times throughout the night. She wasn’t quite sure where he went to for most of those times, and she tried to tell herself not to be concerned. The thought that he couldn’t stand being near her sent a pang of dreadful, wrenching pain through her chest. 

He’d gone M.I.A. from the party again when the hotel staff began clearing away the dishes and pulling dirty table cloths from the empty tables. The dinner hall had begun to vacate since Admiral Rajan gave closing remarks half an hour earlier. The crew stayed around their table, too engaged in conversation to leave so soon. 

Kathryn downed the last of her wine, and rose unsteadily from her chair. 

“I think I’m going to turn in.” She said, “Will I see all of you tomorrow?” 

‘Yes, ma’am’s’ circulated the table. 

“Are you all right, captain?” B’Elanna asked as Kathryn swayed against the table. 

“I’m fine. I just drank a little too much wine.”

“Do you want me to walk with you to your room?” 

“No, no, I’m fine.” Kathryn waved her off. “Everyone have a good night. And don’t stay up too late.”

They all watched her go with concerned gazes. She started across the dining hall, focusing with a knotted brow on every step. Her head was sloshing from side-to-side like a boat taking on water. 

When she made it safely out of the dining hall, she let the door fall shut behind her and leaned wearily against it. The air conditioning breathed cool air across her perspiring forehead. She swallowed thickly, tasting bitter wine against the back of her dried out mouth. 

“Kathryn.”

She gasped, eyes jarring open to the sound of his voice. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Chakotay said, approaching her with a soft smile. 

“You didn’t.” She said, pushing herself upright. She batted a stray hair from her forehead, and prayed to God she wasn’t as flushed as she felt. 

“Are you drunk?” He asked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. 

“Tipsy.” She said, waving a finger at him. 

“May I walk you to your room?” 

She regarded his extended arm. If she hadn’t been so tired and impaired, she might have found the ire to refuse. 

Looping her arm through his, she clutched both hands around his forearm. He led her slowly toward the elevator, a little smile tilting the corner of his mouth. 

“Don’t laugh at me.” She murmured.

“I’m not laughing.”

“If you had stuck around long enough, you might have had as many as I did.”

His smile disappeared into the clench of his jaw.

“I’m sorry. Parties aren’t really my thing.”

“They’re not mine either, but I can appreciate free, quality wine.”

“I just needed to breathe.” He said, stretching out a finger to punch the UP button for the elevator.

Kathryn tilted her chin back to scrutinize his profile. His eyes were sadder than she remembered, the worry lines deeper. He used to smile more. Christ, she missed seeing him smile. 

The elevator doors whooshed open with a ding, and he led them inside. The doors shut behind them, locking them in the tiny space together and carrying them up several stories. 

“So … where did you go?” She asked. 

“I took a walk.” Chakotay said, “There’s a beautiful garden in the courtyard. It’s a great place to clear your mind.”

“I’ll keep it in mind while we’re in town.” She said. “Will I see you at the ceremony tomorrow?”

“I’m obligated to be there.” He said, “But I find the idea of turning Voyager into a museum a little preposterous.”

“It’s a little like turning a childhood home into a museum the general public can visit.”

“Exactly. I don’t want just anyone looking around my bedroom.”

“Too late. It’s Starfleet property.”

They shared a wry chuckle as the elevator glided to a stop, and the doors opened on the twentieth floor. The hallway beyond was silent, and illuminated by the yellowed lights of vintage lamps installed at ten foot intervals along the wall. 

“Which way?” Chakotay asked. 

Kathryn consulted the key card to her room, and motioned to their left. 

“Will you be taking up Starfleet’s offer on the hotel room?” Kathryn asked. 

“Only until after the ceremony tomorrow. Then I’m returning to Arizona.”

“So soon?”

“I have to get back.” Chakotay replied, “Paleontology courses at my age aren’t easy.”

“I’m glad you’re pursuing your childhood dream.” Kathryn said, giving his arm a squeeze, “But I wish they would let a Starfleet hero put his classes on hold for just one weekend.”

“I wouldn’t call myself a hero.”

“What would you call yourself?”

They stopped walking at the door of Kathryn’s hotel room. She turned to face him, searching his expression for signs of dishonesty. There was an invisible layer of shielding between them, protecting their hearts from the savage touch of what could have been. They could be amicable, but she wondered if this idle conversation was all they would ever have again. 

“Lucky.” He replied, his mouth tilting in a bittersweet smile. “I was a failed Starfleet officer, an unsuccessful Maquis captain … an outcast from my own tribe. And somehow I managed to join the crew of the best ship in the ‘Fleet.”

“You’re anything but a failure.” She said, touching his chest softly, “You were the best first officer I ever had, and Starfleet is missing out by not having you in their ranks.”

“Thank you … captain.” He murmured. 

Kathryn pursed her lips as the silence stretched. Chakotay glanced away, his hands clasping rigidly in front of him. 

“Well …” She said, inserting her key card into the lock. “Thank you for walking me up.”

“You’re welcome. Sleep well.”

Kathryn pushed the door open, heaving in a deep breath at the thought of sleeping alone in an unfamiliar bed. She heard him turn to leave just as her memory collected a detail from hours before. 

“Chakotay.” She said, spinning back to face him. She grabbed onto the doorframe as her head swam with the sudden motion. 

“Yes?”

“Earlier, you said you wanted to talk to me about something.” She said. 

His expression shifted to one of shock and dread. He stammered, a frown twisted his brow. 

“No, I … It was nothing. Never mind.”  
“Really? It seemed important at the time.”

“It was nothing, really. Have a good night.”

He turned to leave again. 

Kathryn clung to the door frame, watching him retreat for a indecisive moment. Watching him walk away, she was struck with abrupt clarity. She knew she couldn’t allow this standoff to go any further. She couldn’t live with herself if she let him go one more time. 

“Chakotay, wait.” 

She stumbled after him, holding a hand to her forehead. The hallway tilted around her. She threw out a hand to steady herself against the wall. 

The display caught his attention. He rushed back to her side without further objection, and caught her around the waist.

“I thought you said you weren’t drunk.”

“I might have lied.” She whispered, squeezing her eyes shut against the wave of dizziness. “But you’re lying too.”

She cracked her eyes open to see him gazing down at her with conflicted eyes. 

“What did you want to tell me?” She insisted. 

He drew in a shallow breath, and let his gaze wander toward the floor. 

She hesitantly touched his cheek, bringing his eyes back to her own with a small nudge. 

“Please.” She whispered, “You’re torturing me.”

His jaw clenched. She felt his hands wrap tighter around her waist, seeping the warmth of his palms through the thin silk gown and into her skin. 

“I … I wanted to tell you …” His voice dwindled, and he squeezed his eyes shut in frustration. 

She waited, breath bated, heart thudding dully in her brain. 

“I made a mistake.” He whispered past clenched teeth. His eyes fluttered open to meet hers, the mocha brown of his irises all but black in the dim light of the hall. 

Kathryn gasped in a breath as he pressed closer to her, trapping her between his chest and the wall. His fingers curled around her gown, dragging the fabric taut around her hips. His breath rushed hot against her cheeks, fanning the flame that had lain dormant in her for so long. She grabbed onto his chest, ensuring he couldn’t turn away again without a fight. 

“It’s over.” He pressed on, his voice choked and trembling. “Seven and I…. It’s been over for awhile, but I couldn’t bring myself to-”

“To what?”

“I wanted to call you the day we ended it. But I thought you would be angry.”

“Angry?” She whispered, “Chakotay, I’m the one who stopped you in the first place. I told you that we couldn’t be together because I was the captain, because we had duties to more people than each other. It was my fault.”

“But I saw the way you looked at me after Seven and I started dating. I thought-”

“That I hated you for choosing someone else?” 

“Maybe.”

She swallowed hard, tasting the knot of tears rising in the back of her throat. 

“Maybe I did.” She whispered, “But It was unfair of me. You didn’t deserve that.”

“I could have waited.” He whispered, “We got home weeks later …”

“I couldn’t ask that of you.” She said, “I’m not that selfish.”

“But I loved you, damnit.” He said, taking her cheeks in his hands. 

She blinked back tears as he tilted her chin back, and brought his mouth across hers. A single tear trickled down her cheekbone, but the pain was gone in instant. His mouth was warm and sweet and tender against hers, his kiss pouring every ounce of passion and desire into her waiting mouth. It fed the fire that had started anew in her belly, sending the flames shooting into her core and to the soles of her feet. 

He pulled back too soon, leaving her panting and straining for the kiss to continue. His hands smoothed at her cheeks, as if searching for evidence that this moment was real. 

“I still love you.” He said, his voice a fervent whisper. 

“I love you too.” She whimpered, her voice shattering as the tears throbbed behind her eyelids. 

All this time, all this pain … he’d been stretching his fingers out toward the universe in search of her. She’d spent so many nights imagining this scenario, but none of those fantasies compared to the reality of his mouth crashing over her hers. 

They kissed for another long moment before Kathryn pulled back, petting his chest. 

“We should go inside.” She whispered, “Someone will see-”

“I don’t care if they do.” 

“Neither would I if all you wanted to do was kiss me.” She said, cautiously lifting her gaze to his. 

She could read his intentions like a book. With someone else, her tone may have been presumptuous, but she knew him almost as well as she knew herself. 

“It’s not.” He affirmed. 

He took a step back, releasing her from against the wall. She grabbed him by the hand, and led them back toward the open door of her room. 

Following her inside, he pushed the door shut behind them. The lock fell into place with a resolute click. 

Kathryn spun as they reached the middle of the room, and pulled him against her. His arms wound around her, gathering her feet up off the floor. She held onto his shoulders as their lips met, softer this time, lips joined by tongues. The dress strained around her thighs as her knees clutched his hips. The silk fabric slid between them, but his hands claimed her backside, holding her securely against him. 

He carried her to the bed, and set her down at the end of the mattress. Kneeling before her, he slid his hands from her backside, up the smooth, exposed curve of her spine. Kathryn shuddered at the warmth of his palms running over her bare skin. He barely paused at the clasp of the dress at her nape before he thumbed it open, releasing the fabric draped over her chest. The silk crumpled from her throat, spilling over the swells of her breasts and pooling in her lap. 

Kathryn’s mouth opened in a soft moan as his hands cupped her naked breasts. The kiss broke, and she tilted her head back, letting out a louder sound of satisfaction. His mouth skimmed down the curve of her neck, and the rising and falling line of her chest, pausing briefly at the swell of her breast. His thumb rubbed across her nipple, urging it to a hard, dusky point before he brought the wet, velvet pressure of his mouth across it. 

“Ohhh.” Kathryn moaned, clutching at his hair. 

He ran his tongue in a slow circle around her nipple, dragging a shudder from deep in her belly. Her body ran hot with sudden, pounding need. The simple drag of silk across her thighs made her ache for his touch instead, and every second that his fingers weren’t between her legs built mounting desire in her chest. 

She pulled his face harder against her as he suckled on her breast. She spread her thighs around him, rolling her hips to meet his stomach. The dress lay bunch around her waist, only shielding the part of her aching for him to fill her. She wished his hands would move from her waist to peel away the fabric and take her. 

“Chakotay …” She choked out, her voice strained and unfamiliar to her. 

His mouth sucked off her nipple, leaving the flesh stinging and wet. His eyes traced her breasts and shoulders before reaching up to find her face. She’d seen this look in a hundred glimpses, in neutral, professional settings when these thoughts were forbidden, or in the pained expression of control when they shared platonic evenings in her quarters. This gaze was the true manifestation of all the things that had brewed between them; even though he’d never touched her this way before, she felt as if she were seeing a lover again for the first time in forever.

“I can’t wait anymore.” She whispered, “I’ve waited too long.”

His hand reached down to touch her thigh, fingers creeping beneath the hem of her gown. 

“Yes.” She panted, her eyes slipping shut in ecstasy. 

His fingers glided against her inner thigh, leaving the silk folds of the dress over the connection as if where he was going was some secret. 

Her breath quickened, heart hammering into her rib cage as he found the edge of her panties. Warmth gushed fresh through her core, anticipation leaving her dry-mouthed and gasping. Her hips squirmed forward, finding the brush of his fingers with little coaxing. 

She bit at her lower lip, fighting back a whimper. His fingers stroked her through the thin cotton of her panties, noting the damp beginning to seep through. 

Swallowing convulsively, she forced her eyes open. She wanted to see his face when he finally touched her. 

His focused gaze met hers as she opened her eyes, and a little smile toyed at the corner of his mouth. Pleasure swam in his dark eyes, growing brighter as he curled his fingers around the waistband of her panties. 

Kathryn’s breath halted as the panties stretched in his grip. Slowly, the elastic lost purchase around her hips and surrendered to the pull of his fingers. The cotton came away gradually, following the trembling path of her thighs, and clearing her knees just as a moan began to build in the back of her throat. She lifted her feet from the floor, and Chakotay tugged the garment from her ankles. 

He held the panties in his fist for a moment, regarding the fragile, white fabric soaked with her need. 

Kathryn opened her legs to him, swallowing back moans as she ached and throbbed beneath the fine layer of silk. 

He dropped the panties, and leaned forward to taste her breast again. As his lips gathered her engorged nipple, his hand crept beneath the silk. His fingers teased along her inner thigh, pausing to let the pressure build a few seconds longer before delving between her legs. 

Kathryn lost control of her throat as he cupped her, two fingers curling into her wet heat and parting her labia. Her hips jumped forward as a cry scraped from her throat and her nails clawed at his shoulders. 

His mouth left her breast glistening with saliva and blazed a hot path up her chest and throat. His teeth nipped at her earlobe, breath rushing hot in her ear as he dragged his fingertips in a lavish circle around her clitoris. 

Kathryn arched against him, moaning a hoarse sound of pleasure. Her body ached and sang, screaming for immediate release at the exquisite sensation of his fingers. The pressure and pace were just enough to perch here there at the verge of pleasure, suspending her in a dancing flame of need. 

She writhed against him, her moans coming thin, strained, and pleading. Her fingers flexed around the shoulders of his jacket, pulling him to her then pushing him away as he touched her at a steady, but unsatisfactory rate. The throbbing, aching need was almost more than she could bear.

She’d spent more than one night looking after herself, and she almost wished she could push his hand away and finish it already. But this was more than just release, more than satisfying the aches and pangs of loneliness. She needed him to be the genesis of her pleasure. She needed it to start and end with him. She needed that finality because they’d spent too many years as an ellipsis in an unfinished book. 

His fingers paused, dragging her eyes open wide. 

“Lay back.” He whispered. 

She met his gaze, and the predatory determination in their darkness. His tongue grazed his lower lip, a promise if she’d ever seen one. 

Dragging in a shaking breath, she reclined across the satin bedspread. Her legs drifted open across the mattress as he crawled onto the bed between them. Shedding his jacket, he finessed open the cufflinks of his sleeves, leaving his wrists bare and free. 

Kathryn pursed back a whimper as he snatched the hem of her gown, and threw it back from her hips. The fabric billowed and settled over her belly, leaving her hips and everything below naked. Cool air rushed like a foreign entity over her hot, aching pussy. 

He was down on his belly and between her legs in an instant, his arms sliding underneath her legs and up over her stomach to clutch her breasts. He breathed over her wet, aching flesh, and took her in his mouth. 

The wait was over. He barrelled past hesitance, and awkward first moments, leaving her gasping and struggling to keep up. His mouth slid wet and soft over her labia, releasing the tender folds to attack with tongue. Kathryn’s hips rolled up against the sweet pressure, a moan piercing her lips as his tongue slid boldly over her aching clitoris. 

“Oh, Jesus …” She moaned, reaching down to grab his hair. 

His head bobbed against the pull of her fist, tongue swirling relentlessly against her. 

The pleasure steeped hotter and faster in her belly, each swirl of his tongue bringing a fresh pang of arousal through her. She clamped and pulsed beneath his ministrations, dripping sweet, musky wetness onto his attentive tongue. 

Her spine arched taut, and her eyes squeezed shut. The pleasure bore down on her trembling, aching body. Each ripple of incoming pleasure teased her with the threat of climax, only to drift away at the slightest pause of his tongue. She pushed against his mouth, gnashing at her lower lip in frustration and need. The pleasure couldn’t come fast enough; she chased after it like a heat seeking missile, search and destroy. 

Her panicked desire and the rage of her thoughts blanked into white noise as Chakotay’s tongue found just the right angle. Kathryn’s trapped breath released into eager gulps as the pleasure rose like a wave inside her. She stiffened, watching the tide rise and rise and rise, until finally it came crashing down on top her, sweeping her away in a tingling, spasming gulf of pleasure. 

Her hips rocked against Chakotay’s mouth, her pussy gushing wetness. He drank it in, kneading every last ounce of orgasm from her swollen clit with a steady tongue. She whined and twisted away, her body still sparking and jumping with pleasure, but keenly aware of how tender he’d made her. He clutched her hips as the spasms persisted, forcing her sensitized flesh to mouth to lap up the sweet taste of her arousal. Her whimpers only served to please him further, and he pinned her to the bed, thoroughly sucking away the remains of slick arousal until she was tearing at his hair with her nails. 

He released her with a low chuckle, and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his formal shirt. 

Kathryn lay limp against the sheets, her extremities tingling with aftershocks. She slowly met his gaze, blushing hot from head to toe. 

He crawled over her, nestling his hips against hers and pressing a musky kiss to her mouth. She felt his erection between them, throbbing and rigid against her belly. The slightest roll of his hips brought a moan vibrating from the back of his throat and against her lips. 

She slid her hand down his side, and nudged for access where their hips were fused. He lifted his hips just enough for her to reach between them and tug open his belt. Their eyes met as she undid his button and zipper. 

His eyes burned with desire, but behind the veil of fleshly need was a man she hadn’t seen in years. The last time she’d seen him, she’d pushed him away. She’d been terribly cruel. How could she have turned away these eyes, the eyes of a man in love, loyal to her to a fault? 

She pushed his trousers from his hips with a forceful tug, eager now to make up for lost time. He moved with her, kicking the trousers from her legs when they slid below his knees and out of her reach. The boxers came next, her fingers gliding over naked skin as the fabric departed. 

He breathed unsteadily, nostrils flaring in quietly raging pleasure as she dragged her fingers over the length of his cock. 

She licked her lips, and willed her voice to speak. 

“I want you inside me.” She whispered. 

He swallowed hard, a flush rising light pink over his cheeks. 

Gripping the base of his cock, she guided him to the slick entrance. He grabbed her wrist, and pinned it against the mattress, taking control of his slow entry into her. 

Kathryn bit back a moan, her head tilting back against the sheets as he breached her. He stretched her, searing into her mind every inch of his cock filling her. When he was completely submerged, she could feel the weight of him low in her belly, the dull ache and hum of her body taking the intrusion after years alone. 

“Oh God.” He whispered, his voice winding through her body, an already treasured memory. 

He buried his face in her throat as he began to rock against her, shallow, trembling thrusts that served his tenuous control. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him against her as the first moments of union opened them like budding flowers to new world of color, and meaning, and light. They came creeping together, their touches careful and tender, reveling in this act they had denied themselves for so long. It was a sacrament, a rediscovery of faith, a realization that altered all they’d known of each other before this moment. Nothing they’d experienced together had been a lie, but beneath the surface, still, deep waters of loving and knowing lay unexplored. Kathryn wanted to explore every reservoir with him, even if it took the rest of their lives to make up for all the waters behind them under the tallest bridges. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Chakotay woke with the sun as was his custom. In the moment between dreams and waking, he startled at the strange bed he lay in, and the body heat of another person at his side. As his mind crept from sleep, he recalled the events of the previous evening, the intimacy that had occurred in these unfamiliar surroundings. It was Kathryn asleep beside him, the pale arch of her back facing him. Kathryn - his captain, his friend … his lover. 

Chakotay rolled onto his side, careful not to disturb her. Her hair had come loose of it’s restraints, spilling coppery strands over her cheek and the pillow. The sheets draped across the middle of her back, leaving her shoulders bare to his gaze. 

He reached out to touch her silky soft skin, stopping just short of her shoulder blade when she stirred. He held his breath as she shifted in her sleep, settling back against the pillow with a contented sigh. 

Chakotay let his hand drop to the sheets. 

If memory served, he’d crossed every line he’d promised himself he wouldn’t since meeting her. His own boldness surprised him, and his weakness disturbed him. What if Kathryn woke this morning to realize she’d made a drunken mistake? One she may not have made if she’d been sober. What new role would he take in her mind for capitalizing on her impaired state of mind?

Usually by this time, he was up out of bed, and drinking a cup of tea over breakfast. But the weight of the night before kept him pinned to bed beside her. 

The room was still and quiet as dawn crept over the glistening peaks of the Golden Gate Bridge and slanted through the window facing the harbor. The clock on the nightstand kept track of every second he lay staring at her, extrapolating every possibility of what she might do when she finally awoke. 

Sunrise brightened to day while he remained in the bed, trapped in his cyclic thoughts of dread. The clock read 0800 hours before Kathryn’s even breathing disrupted, and she rolled onto her back to stretch. 

Chakotay was lying on his back, hands folded behind his head. His gaze swung from the ceiling to see her blue eyes blinking open to meet his. Last night’s makeup was crusted around her eyes, her hair a mess. The sheets slid from her breasts, pink nipples swelling to the air. 

Chakotay’s jaw clenched as thoughts of dread fled before the shadow of primal need. 

She blinked up at him, thoughts swimming behind her eyes. 

“Good morning.” She said, her tone inquisitive.

“Good morning.” 

They stared at each other a minute longer before she sat upright, letting the sheet fall to her lap. She stretched her arms over her head, spine arching and thrusting her breasts outward. 

“How do you feel?” Chakotay asked, pushing himself up against the pillows. 

“What do you mean?” SHe asked, casting a casual gaze over her shoulder at him. 

“You had a lot to drink last night.”

“My mouth tastes like shit … other than that, I’m fine.”

“Good.” 

Kathryn threw the sheets back from her legs, and rose from the bed. The pins in her hair lost the last bit of purchase, allowing her hair to uncoil entirely and spill down her shoulders. She shook it free with her hands, tugging bobby pins and ties from the strands. 

She turned to face him as she set the pins on the nightstand. 

“I’m going to replicate some coffee.” She said, “Do you want any?”

“Tea, please.” He replied.

She crossed the room to the replicator, and ordered coffee and tea from the machine. It hummed for a moment before spitting out two china cups full of steaming liquid. She took them from the replicator, and walked carefully back to the bed. 

“Some things never change.” She said, offering him to the cup of tea. 

“That’s a comfort.”

She sat down on the edge of the bed, and took a sip of the coffee. Her eyes slipped shut in satisfaction, throat producing a low hum. 

Chakotay gazed down into the cup of tea. She was avoiding saying anything about the night before. The emotions were clear in her eyes, but she’d be damned if she cracked. It was one of the things he both loved and hated about her. He was going to have to take the initiative if he wanted to address the elephant in the room. 

“So,” He said, “Do you still wish I’d take the weekend off from classes?”

“Are you offering?” She replied, cocking an eyebrow. 

“I’m reconsidering.”

“Of course you are. It’s what you’re expected to do.” She said. 

“Does that mean you don’t really want me to?”

“I’ve spent a long time wishing you weren’t so far away.” She said, “And I’m done letting it break my heart. If you want to stay, then stay. If not, I’ve learned to live with it.”

Chakotay frowned, his heart recoiling at the icy tone of her voice. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but he had hoped this indifference wasn’t it. 

“I want to stay.” He said, quietly. 

“And when this weekend is over?” 

“We’ll figure it out.” He said, “I’m only one transport away, you know.”

She took a sip of her coffee, and glanced away from his hopeful gaze. The sunlight through the window illuminated the tiny flyaway hairs at her crown, giving her a temporary halo. She was like a pale, marble statue, beautiful in repose, smooth and cold. 

“I want this, Chakotay.” She whispered, “You don’t know how badly.”

“I sense a ‘but’ coming.”

“There’s always an addendum to happiness.” She said, “A sacrifice someone has to make. Permanent cohabitation is a learned behavior, not something we’re born with. Selfishness is the first instinct of any living thing.” 

“What are you saying? It’s impossible for us to be together forever?”

“I’m saying our work is important to both of us.” She said, turning her gaze from the window to him, “You’re following your childhood dream of becoming a paleontologist, and I have no intention of resigning my commission from Starfleet.”

“So what? We can make it work, if we really want to.”

The concern on her face faded to a fond smile. She left her coffee on the nightstand and crawled languidly across the bed to drape herself over his lap. He wound his arms around her, and breathed against her throat, drowning himself into the scent of her skin. She melted against him, her body lax and warmth and budding to his caress. 

“For now, just touch me.” She whispered in his ear. 

He eased her down against the satin sheets, and kissed his way down her neck to find her breasts plump and puckered in anticipation. He wrapped his lips around one firm, tender nipple as he tracked the rise and fall of her belly with the palm of his hand. Her thighs parted wide at the first nudge of his fingers, hips trembling and arching when his touch grazed her labia. She whimpered beneath him, fingers clutching at his hair and guiding his mouth to her other breast. He kissed each one thoroughly, leaving her nipples pink and glistening, her mouth falling open in breathless moans. His fingers swirled against her, coaxing slick heat from within, leaving her clitoris swollen and aching. She squirmed and moaned for a few brief moments of anticipation before she came undone to his caress, body rippling in a tender but pleasing climax. 

She relaxed in his embrace, breathing out a sweet sigh. Her fingers dragged through his hair, grazing pleasingly over his scalp. 

He pressed soft kisses to her mouth and jaw, hungry and determined now that reckless need had been satisfied. They were swimming in the brilliant opiate of the morning after, caught up in a small bubble of perfection. Sometimes, eternity was just one moment, and this moment was it. 

She pulled him between her thighs, and wiggled until his cock was sliding hot and rigid against her pussy. She rolled her hips, letting him penetrate her, and holding him to her as their bodies fused together. He rocked against her, kissing her throat and listening intently for her low moans each time his cock head found the bottom. 

They were only a few fleeting moments in the collective time of the universe, but he was clinging onto them for dear life. He had what he had always wanted, but he could only hold his head down and pray their addendum wasn’t following shortly behind. 

 

~

 

The grand opening of the Voyager Museum was to start at noon, with a ribbon-cutting and speech by Admiral Owen Paris. Kathryn would be the one cutting the ribbon, the face of the Voyager crew expected to smile happily for the media present. 

Kathryn stood before the mirror in her hotel room, regarding her formal Starfleet uniform with a critical gaze. The white uniform with it’s gold piping and medals pinned to the chest was too flashy for her tastes, but it was what Federation brass wanted. 

With her hair pulled back in a taut bun, she thought she looked militaristic. 

She turned away from the mirror, irritated by the trivial thoughts. She knew they were only distractions for other troubles that plagued her mind. 

Chakotay had left the hotel room wearing his clothes from the night before. His suitcase was in his own room a floor below, and as such, he was resigned to be the one doing the walk of shame. She hoped he didn’t see anyone they knew in the hallway, not because she was ashamed but because she didn’t want the questions and the stares. 

Kathryn put on her boots, and left the hotel room without a glance backwards. She took the elevator down the lobby, which hosted a breakfast bar and coffee shop for the patrons’ convenience. She found Chakotay sitting at the corner table with two bagel and egg sandwiches. 

He smiled when she crossed the room to join him. 

“Wow.” He said, regarding the uniform with raised brows. 

“I know. I think it’s a bit much, don’t you?”

“Starfleet loves to put on a show.” 

“And I’m the prize pony.” 

“If it’s any consolation, I think you look beautiful.” 

“Thanks.” She said, dryly. 

They ate the breakfast sandwiches quietly, watching the people walking past the hotel through the floor-to-ceiling window beside them. The city was awake and churning with it’s inhabitants running to and fro. The chatter and press made Kathryn’s head ache. She couldn’t wait to get back to Indiana after this weekend was over. 

As they were finishing breakfast, Tom, B’Elanna, and Harry entered the coffee shop. While Harry went to the counter to order breakfast, Tom and B’Elanna took the table next to Kathryn and Chakotay. 

“Good morning.” Kathryn said. 

“‘Morning.” B’Elanna said, “Feeling okay this morning, captain?”

“Oh, it was just a little wine. I’m perfectly fine.”

“Good, I felt bad letting you walk up alone.” 

“No worries.” Chakotay said, “I volunteered. She got to her room, safe and sound.”

Kathryn shot him a glare as Tom and B’Elanna looked between them with vague smiles. Kathryn pursed her lips, aware she was giving away more with her body language than Chakotay was with his innocent remark. 

“Well,” Tom said, clearing his throat. “I don’t know about you guys, but I think it’s going to be kind of weird walking into my quarters again and seeing a memorial plaque over my bed.”

“Do you think they memorialized Deck 15’s toilets?” B’Elanna asked, chuckling, “You know the janitorial crews always skipped over those ones.”

“Personally, I’m looking forward to looking out the view screen and seeing San Francisco instead of Borg cubes.” Chakotay said. 

Kathryn sipped her cup of coffee as the rest of them reminisced about their time on  _ Voyager _ . It was all in the not so distant past, and she still couldn’t relax when she thought about all they had been through together. There had been good times, but somehow, her mind clung to the bad times like some sort of safety net. Things could always be worse. 

A few minutes later, Tuvok and his family joined them in the coffee shop.

Kathryn rose from her chair to meet her longtime friend. 

They embraced, and she stood back to look into his face. His mouth didn’t move, but his eyes were smiling in a way others might have overlooked. 

“It’s so good to see you.” She said, “I barely got to talk to you last night.”

“I hope you are well, Captain.” Tuvok said. 

“As well as I can be. And you?”

“I am well. I saw Commander Chakotay in the hall this morning.” Tuvok said. 

Kathryn stiffened, resisting to the urge to swivel her head in Chakotay’s direction. She couldn’t hide the flush that started up her neck, but she lifted her chin coolly. 

“He assured me that you made it back to your room uninjured last night.” Tuvok said, “Captain, it is ill-advised to consume such copious amounts of alcohol.”

“Thank you for your concern, Tuvok, but I was hardly drunk.”

“I, of course, defer my concern to your discretion.” 

Kathryn cleared her throat, and steered the conversation away from her drinking habits, “How are your wife and children?”

“They are well.” Tuvok replied, “We will be returning to Vulcan shortly after this weekend’s ceremonies. The children will need to catch up on their studies.”

“Of course. Can we at least have dinner one night before you leave again?” 

“That would please me.”

After everyone finished eating breakfast, Kathryn called for the Starfleet driver to pick them up. A limousine had been commissioned to carry them to the ceremony. At the curb of the hotel, Kathryn regarded the elaborate hovercar with a sour gaze; it was just another ornament on this already superfluous day. 

The piled into the lengthy backseat of the limo. Kathryn could tell most of them were enjoying the pampering. In reality, she should be too. She’d spent so much time in the Delta Quadrant thinking about the splendid furnishings and accommodations of home, but now that she was here to enjoy them, she couldn’t maneuver herself out of this ill-tempered mindset. 

_ Maybe I’ll get drunk again tonight.  _ She thought, ruefully.  _ It seemed to work out well last time …  _

As if off cue, Chakotay slid into the seat beside her, his hand brushing her knee. 

She shot him a quick glance, but he wasn’t looking her way. The casual touch, however, was just enough to reassure her that he’d been serious about staying for the weekend. Her heart jumped at the thought, and deep down, much lower, she was still aching for their newfound intimacy. Even dour thoughts of reality couldn’t dampen those needs. 

The hovercar sped through the streets of San Francisco, carrying them all the way to the bay, where the sleek, silver hull of  _ Voyager  _ loomed above them. The ship had been set down on a foundation of silver-plated walls and glass windows that she imagined led into some sort of ill-conceived gift shop. 

She couldn’t believe she’d toiled through seven years in the Delta Quadrant to have her face stamped on Federation merchandise. 

As the limo approached the museum, the size of the gathered crowd became apparent. People were packed behind three-foot high gates that barely made room for the red carpet that led down to the front of the museum. Even from within the car, she could hear the din of shouting and clapping. 

“I can’t believe I signed off on this.” She muttered, rubbing a hand over her forehead. 

“Take a deep breath.” Chakotay advised, “This will all be over before you know it.”

“That’s what I told myself for seven years in the Delta Quadrant.” She said, “And it felt like an eternity.”

“They’re just civilians.”

“I’d prefer a battalion of Borg drones.” 

Before she could complain any further, the door of the limo hissed open, thrusting them into the waiting gaze of the assembly. Triumphant music blasted from somewhere above, barely audible beneath the rising scream of their fans. 

Kathryn was the last to emerge from the car. Squinting against the noon sun, she waved rigidly at the crowd and tried to smile. After all, putting on a good face was just as much a duty to Starfleet as fighting the Borg and bringing home her crew. 

 

~

 

After Admiral Paris’s speech, Kathryn cut the ribbon, and the doors to the Voyager Museum were opened for the first time. Those who had tickets were allowed inside while Kathryn and the crew were seated at long table in the foyer for a meet-and-greet. 

An hour of sitting at the table, smiling at guests, and signing T-shirts was about all her nerves could take. The starched uniform was beginning to itch in unreachable places, and the doors to the lobby kept opening, releasing the air conditioning and letting the scorching heat of the San Francisco afternoon in. 

Kathryn checked her watch, suppressing a groan when she noted that it was almost 2:00. How much longer could this day go on for? 

“H-hello?”

Her gaze darted up to see a young girl standing in front of the table. She was perhaps twelve, with short, blond hair and flushed cheeks. She was clutching a clear, plastic box that contained what appeared to be an action figure. 

“Hello.” Kathryn said, “Do you want me to sign something for you?”

“Yes, Captain.”

The girl held out the box, revealing that it was indeed an action figure. 

Kathryn took the box, scowling at the tiny plastic rending of her own face. 

“Oh, dear God.”

“You don’t like it?” The little girl asked, her eyes widening, “My dad got it for me for my birthday. You’re my hero.”

Kathryn’s frown fell away as she looked back up to see the girl gazing at her in awe. 

“Oh, no, sweetheart.” She said, “It’s wonderful.”

She grabbed her permanent marker, and signed the front of the box. She extended the action figure back to the girl. 

“There you go.” She said, “What’s your name?”

“Haley.”

“It was so wonderful to meet you, Haley. I’m glad I could inspire you.”

“I’m going to be captain of my own ship one day.” Haley said, her smile widening, “I’m going to go to Starfleet Academy.”

“Good for you.” Kathryn said, “But, you know, I started off as an ensign in the science department. It’s a lot of hard work, becoming captain. But with enough determination and belief in yourself, I believe you can do it.”

Joyful tears sprang into Haley’s bright blue eyes. 

“Thank you, Captain Janeway.”

The girl rushed off to her father, who was standing just a few feet away with a proud smile on his face. As she eagerly showed her signed box to her dad, Kathryn put her chin her hands, momentarily distracted from the day’s frustrations. 

“See? The day wasn’t a complete waste.” Chakotay said, touching her elbow. 

“She has no idea just how hard it is.” Kathryn replied, sitting back in her chair, “But dreams are called dreams for a reason.”

“You’re going to be eating your words when you offer a promotion to Captain Haley one day.” Chakotay replied, a playful smile curling his mouth. 

“I suppose I’m just a little bit jaded after all these years.” Kathryn said, shaking her head, “It reminds me of my younger self when I see a girl like her. How idealistic I used to be. How naive.”

“You were never naive for wanting to do the right thing.”

“No, the universe just as a way of tricking you about what the right thing really is.”

Chakotay frowned, but didn’t pursue the conversation any further. 

Releasing a sigh, Kathryn checked her watch again. 

It would be another hour before most of the crowd had seen all the museum had to offer and began to filter out the front door. Kathryn and the rest of the senior officers were allowed out from behind the desk once the queue had emptied. 

Kathryn caught one of the staff members who was darting around the lobby with a padd and a communication earpiece, rattling off orders. 

“May we see the museum for ourselves?” She asked. 

“Certainly, Captain.” The man replied, “Would you like the guided tour?”

“I think I know the way to my own ready room, thank you.”

She waved for the crew to follow her, and led them to the turbo lift that would transport them up to Deck 15. From there, they rode the next life directly to the Bridge. 

The crew was unusually silent as they rode the lift to Deck One. The only sound was the whir of the turbo lift carrying them through fifteen decks to the top of the ship. 

As the door clicked open, Kathryn took in the sight of the Bridge with a trembling breath. She stepped out of the lift, half expecting to hear a siren whirring and see some catastrophe looming in the view screen. Instead, she saw the cityscape and the glistening bay. The Bridge was silent, a house deserted of its inhabitants. 

She walked slowly around the railing to her chair, letting her hand trail behind her along the chromed metal that she knew well. 

The rest of the crew trickled from the lift and onto the Bridge, each one of them looking over their stations with a sense of nostalgia. 

Kathryn didn’t sit down in the captain’s chair, afraid of what would become of her own structural integrity if she did. 

“I’ll be in my ready room.” She whispered. 

She could feel their eyes pinned to her back as she strode across the Bridge to the ready room. The doors opened, allowing access to the comforting, familiar privacy of the ready room. 

Tears stung behind her eyelids as she crossed the room to the sofa beneath the massive windows. She couldn’t see the stars, only an incredible view of the bay, and if she were not mistaken, the tiny outline of Alcatraz just across the sea. 

Clutching her hands to her face, she sucked in a deep breath against the knot forming in the back of her throat. Memories bombarded her from every direction. This room was the sum of her journey through the Delta Quadrant, her command center, her safe haven. She’d always thought better here, as if there was some peace and clarity to this room. 

Kathryn startled at the sound of the ready room doors opening. She wiped her face hurriedly, and spun around to see Chakotay lingering in the doorway. 

“Report?” She said, trying to overshadow the tears on her face with levity. 

“All systems are functioning at peak efficiency.” He said, smiling softly. 

She sighed wearily, and dropped her head to her hands as he crossed the room to join her by the window. His palm settled on her back, rubbing in a smoothing circle. 

“Why do I feel so unhappy?” She whispered. 

“This was our home for seven years.” He replied, “Having a lot of strangers in here feels like an invasion of privacy. I feel it too.”

“But you don’t show it.” She said, “I feel like I could cry an ocean. And this day is endless. I just want it to be over.”

He pulled her into his arms, and she sank her face into his chest, breathing out a steadying sigh. She closed her eyes to their surroundings, trying in vain to cover her memories with the blanket of his warmth. 

They’d been here before, her pain showing despite her every attempt to conceal it … him eager to come to her rescue. His arms around her, mouth nuding at her throat. His fingers seeking beneath her clothes … 

This room had been the stage for their division, the place the resentment had all started. 

She wished now that she could go back and change it all. Tell herself to surrender in that moment, instead of pushing him away to quote duty and command. She’d ignited a string of events that remained imbedded like shrapnel in her body long after the damage was done. 

She couldn’t rewrite history, no matter how hard she tried. 

Kathryn extricated herself from his embrace, and wiped her face with the sleeve of her uniform. 

“You know what my dad would say?” She said, lifting her chin, “Suck it, buttercup. Life isn’t any walk in the park.”

She waved her hands to the room, and scoffed, “I have nothing at all to be sad about. We got home, safe and sound. My ready room is even part of museum now. I didn’t just get us home  - I made Starfleet history. This is what I dreamed about when I was Haley’s age.”

“They’re called dreams for a reason.” Chakotay said. 

“Well, it turned out to be more of a nightmare.” She said, poising her hands on her hips, “That little girl has no idea who she’s looking up … the mistakes her “hero” has made. The things that I’ve done that I have to live with for the rest of my life. She’d pick a different hero if she knew who I really am.”

“I know who you are.” Chakotay said, his frown deepening. “And so do you, deep down. You have to stop blaming yourself someday, Kathryn. We ended up in the Delta Quadrant, we hit some roadblocks along the way - and if we’re being honest, we endured a lot, and lost a lot. But we got home, and that’s the way it happened. There’s no changing it.”

“I don’t want to change it.” She said, “I just want everyone to stop idolizing it. They’re all acting like it was some glamorous trot through the Delta Quadrant, some heroic and glorious mission. It wasn’t. It was my own short-sighted attempt at being righteous that landed us in that position.”

“You made the right choice. I still believe that.”

“Do you? Really?” She whispered, wiping angrily at a tear racing down her cheek. “You’re happy with losing seven years of your life to the Delta Quadrant? You’re happy with how things turned out?”

“I’ve learned to accept it.” Chakotay said, “And whether or not I’m happy isn’t dependent on the past, or on your decisions.”

“Really? Because what happened between us last night could have happened a whole lot sooner if I hadn’t been so hung up on Federation duty and regulations.”

Chakotay pursed his lips. His eyes darted away from hers, confirming her suspicions. She knew she’d gotten his attention when he couldn’t even look at her. 

“I put off my own happiness because I believed I was doing the right thing.” She whispered, “And look where it got us. We haven’t spoken for a year. I don’t even know what’s happening in your life aside from what little you told me last night. I don’t even know what’s going to happen after this weekend.”

“We don’t have to know the future.” Chakotay insisted, “But we do know how we feel about each other.”

“We knew how we felt about each other two years ago.” Kathryn whispered, “And after the way I rejected you, we probably would have stopped communicating sooner if it hadn’t been for the fact that we were trapped together on this goddamn ship.”

“We stopped talking because we didn’t know what else to say.” Chakotay said, “Not because we stopped caring about each other.”

“Well, if this museum has done anything, it’s reminded me of all the reasons why we did.” Kathryn said, scraping a hand through her hair, “I always thought more clearly here, you know, and I can feel that effect coming back around.” 

Chakotay watched in confusion as she strode across the ready room to the door. 

He trailed after her, struggling not to arouse suspicion from the crew. Kathryn stepped into the turbolift, and ordered, “Deck 15.” The doors slid shut before he could join her, and she caught a glimpse of his crestfallen expression just before the metal doors sealed together. As soon as she was alone, she sank against the wall of the turbolift. Tears rushed to her eyelids, and she indulged them for just a moment. By the time she emerged in the gift shop, she would have it together again - she always did. 

 

~

 

Chakotay caught a cab back to the Palace Hotel. He rode the lift to his floor, and trudged down the hall to his room. 

Accepting the present reality while maintaining progress toward the future was a seasoned practice in his life, one that he’d struggled through years to learn. 

Kathryn was still struggling to accept the outcome of her life, the decisions she’d made, the mistakes. And right now, the best thing for her was to have privacy. As much as he wanted to rush to her room right now and proclaim his undying love, he knew his plaintive cries might fall on deaf ears. The tide of reality and consequences was over her head right now; she couldn’t hear him, even if she wanted to. 

So he went to his own room. He poured himself a drink. He reclined on the bed, and told himself to breathe. The day had been rough on her, but he had to believe she would open back up to him eventually. 

However, as the evening wore on, he grew restless waiting for her call. Against his better judgment, he wrote her a brief message on his padd, and sent it off. 

_ I know today was difficult, but I’m here for your if you want company. If you give this a chance, I know we can make it work.  _

He could see that the message had been opened and read, but she didn’t respond. The padd lay silent in his lap for the next hour and a half. 

Finally, he threw the device aside, and rose from the bed. He slid his shoes on, and left the hotel room, determination simmering in his chest. Perhaps he’d forgotten how stubborn she could be in the space of a single year. Maybe his own patience wasn’t as strong as it used to be. He couldn’t play the waiting game anymore, not after last night. He wouldn’t let her walk away so easily. 

When he reached her room, he paced the carpet for an anxious minute before rapping his knuckles on the door. Silence greeted him for an excruciating moment before he heard her call, “Come in.” 

The door opened to her reply, admitting him inside. 

The room was half-lit by dusk’s hazy illumination. The stereo played Tchaikovsky at low volume, filling the room with the swell of orchestral rapture. The balcony doors stood open, allowing a brisk, warm breeze to drift in, scented by the ocean. She leaned against the railing, dressed in a black evening gown that swirled around her ankles in the wind. As he drew closer, he could see that she was cradling a glass of amber liquid between her hands. 

“Kathryn,” He said, pausing at the balcony doors. 

She didn’t reply, but took a drink of the glass. She winced at the sharp taste, and let out a sigh. 

“Would you care for a drink?” She asked. 

“No thank you.” 

He stood aside as she leaned away from the balcony railing, and swept past him to the decanter of liquor on the nightstand. She poured another drink for herself, and turned to meet his gaze. 

“I suppose you came here to proclaim your undying love.” She said. 

“As you wish.” 

She scoffed, and took a swig of the alcohol. She strode across the room to where he stood, and tilted her head to side, scrutinizing him. 

“That’s how it’s always been.” She murmured, “‘Aye aye, Captain’.”

“Do you really think you should have another one of those?” He asked, motioning to the glass in her hand. “You can’t lie to me this time. You’re drunk.”

“That was the goal.” She said, waving a hand in the air, “Mission accomplished.”

He snatched the glass out of her hand, and carried it back to the nightstand. She didn’t protest as he set the glass down, and put the lid firmly back on the decanter. 

“I don’t know what the hell is going on with you.” He said, spinning back to face her, “But I’m tired of playing these games.”

She gazed at him, glassy-eyed, rosy-cheeked, mouth twisted in a sad frown. He might have taken pity on her years ago, but that was before she’d ripped his heart out and stomped on it. He wasn’t about to stand by idly while she did it again. 

“I know how you feel about me.” He pressed on, “And I know how I feel about you. And that should be all there is to talk about.”

“It’s not that simple.” She whispered. 

“Well, I’m simplifying it.” He said, “That’s what Tuvok told me, you know, and I’m beginning to think he’s right.”

“Tuvok?” She said, her eyes widening. 

“That’s right. He told me that I was the one over complicating things with you, and there was no reason why we shouldn’t be together. At the time, I thought there were so many things still standing in our way, but after the past couple days, I’ve started to realize that we’re the only ones getting in our way. I’m ready to stand aside. How about you?”

She stared at him in surprise for a moment before turning back the balcony, her hand combing through her hair. 

“Have you forgiven me?” She whispered, her hands curling around the railing. 

“Yes.” 

“For what, exactly?”

“You know-”

“Tell me.” She insisted. 

Chakotay drew in a deep breath. “Fine. I forgive you for that day in the ready room when I kissed you, and you told me to stop. I forgive you for ending things right there, and for breaking my heart in the process.”

“I thought it would be dereliction of duty to have intimate relations with my first officer … or anyone for that matter.” Kathryn said. 

“I could understand that.”

“But you didn’t.” 

“Understanding the reason didn’t make it hurt any less.”

“So, you turned to the second best thing.” She said, turning to face him. 

“I don’t want to talk about Seven.” 

“But let’s face it - you hooked up with her because you were lonely, and you wanted companionship … and you couldn’t get it from me. And I hated you for it. For my own loyalty to Starfleet and command, for pushing you away, for letting you be with someone else.”

“Kathryn,” He said, sighing, “Why are we going over this again?”

“Because, I want you to see the pattern.”

“What pattern?”

“Of me … hurting you.”

Chakotay’s gaze seared into her trembling expression, his heart seizing at the tone of impending dread in her voice. Whatever she was going to say next, he somehow knew it would hurt more than everything else had. 

“What do you mean?” He asked, his voice coming out choked beneath the weight of dread in his chest. 

“I’m leaving soon, Chakotay.” She whispered, her lashes gathering tears as she blinked. 

The triumphant strains of Tchaikovsky filled the silence between them as those four simple words struck him in the chest like a wall of bricks.  

“What?” He breathed out. 

“I accepted a two-year mission from Starfleet last week.” She said, her voice shaking through each word. “The last one I’ll ever be on before I’m promoted to Admiral and stuck behind a desk for the rest of my career.” 

Chakotay’s heart sank to his stomach like a boulder seeking the ocean floor. A million objections rose in his mind, but he could only manage a few meager words of objection. 

“Two years?” He whispered, “You’ve only been home for one, Kathryn.”

“It’s not like I remember.” She murmured, a sad smile turning the corner of her mouth. “This place reeks of a war and carnage. The people here are jaded and heartbroken. I can see the cracks in Starfleet’s morals, in the very foundation of everything I believed in. Exploration is the only part of this work that I can still identify with; and Starfleet is the only future I have. I have no choice.”

“You always have a choice.” He insisted, crossing the balcony to catch her by the elbow, “Please, Kathryn, I’m begging you not to do this.”

“It’s already done.” She snapped, yanking her arm out of his grip, “I signed the commission papers last week.”

“Why did you do it then?” He demanded, sudden rage and pain breathing fire into his chest, “Why did you do this to me?”

“Because I’m selfish, Chakotay! Just as selfish as I’ve always been. I wanted you, and I had to have you before I never saw your face again for two damn years. Last night I thought I could make this work. I really believed I could have both, and that we were going to make up for all the lost time … But it’s day now. The light is here, and I can see …”

Chakotay gritted back hot tears as she turned her back to him. She was slipping from his fingers again, just like she always did. 

“And why can’t we?” He asked, his voice choked. 

“You’re a dreamer. And just like I said, dreams are only dreams.” She said, her voice softening with gentle fondness that bordered on some kind of cruelty. “But I’m a realist. And realistically, it won’t work.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Are you going to give up your degree?” She asked, “A dream you’ve had since childhood? Are you going to rejoin Starfleet, and accept my offer to be my first officer again?”

He clenched his jaw, incensed by this new level of honesty she’d finally chosen to display. 

“And am I going to give up this mission to be captain again before I’m promoted to admiral?” She continued, “The answer is no, Chakotay. Starfleet is my career, my life.”

“And I’m just not that important to you?”

She gazed at him with watery eyes, her lips trembling. Her shoulders were pulled back in rigid, defensive posture, even the rise and fall her breasts threatening him away. The gentle, soft shape of her he’d touch the night before was guarded now by prickly armor.

“You’re everything to me.” She whispered, a tear slipping down her cheek, “And that’s why I have to end this now, before I hurt you anymore than I already have.”

Chakotay grabbed onto the railing as if to ground himself. His chest felt as if a chasm had split open there beneath his breastbone, opening up to a void of pain that he’d spent the last two years filling with everything but the one thing that could make him happy. 

“I can’t accept this.” He whispered past clenched teeth. “I can’t let you do this … not after-”

“I’m sorry.” She said, lowering her head. “I’m sorry for letting you in the way that I did.”

“You did more than that.” He said, “You let me think there was a chance that it would last.”

“I wanted it to.”

She turned to leave the balcony, but he caught her by the wrist. She gasped quietly as he pulled her to him, and wrapped his arm firmly around her waist. She clutched at his chest, her eyes wide, lashes batting against her flushed cheeks. 

He bent to kiss her harshly, tasting the singe of alcohol on her tongue and the low note of her moan. She clutched his nape, encouraging the rough caress of his mouth across hers, and the nip of his teeth along her soft lower lip. 

His hands dragged over her hips and backside, hungry for her skin molding to his grasp and warming in anticipation. He channeled his anger into his desire, unwilling to walk away from her without one last night together. 

He pulled the silk fabric of the evening gown up to her hips, and pushed his hand underneath to find the elastic of her panties. She teetered on her toes as his hand pressed between her legs to find her pussy damp and beginning to throb. She broke the kiss with a hoarse moan, and ducked her forehead against his chest to watch his hand pumped against her. She clung to his neck for support, whimpering softly each time his fingers fucked into her. 

“Please …” She panted. 

He didn’t need any further instruction. Withdrawing his hand, he spun her to face to the balcony railing, and pulled the panties down her thighs. The nightgown spilled over the rounded top of her backside as she bent over the railing, all but begging him to take her. 

He unzipped his trousers, and pulled his cock free of his boxers as he came around behind her. She wiggled back to meet him, her legs braced in a wide stance, her pussy pink and glistening in the dim light of the fading sun. He took her by the hips, and pushed into her. 

“Ohhh.” She cried, clutching the railing with white-knuckled fists. 

Her hair spilled forward, blocking her face from his view as he thrust into her. Each rock of his body sent her lunging against the railing, and moaning at the depth of penetration. The wet smack of their bodies meeting and Kathryn’s moans peppered Tchaikovsky’s waltz with their own overlapping composition of desire and passion. Their groans clashed, disjointed and ragged, as they pieced together the last remnants of the previous evening. It was but a shadow of the union he’d felt the night before, but it was all that was left - and he would take every last bit before the sinking San Francisco sun went down on their love. 

 


	3. Chapter 3

When Kathryn opened her eyes the next morning, the sun had just begun to creep from the horizon, and a pale sunrise dusted the sky with yellow and pink. It was much too early after a very late night, but her mind was awake and racing instantly. 

She breathed slowly, letting the fog of sleep roll back from her mind to reveal the knife-sharp clarity of reality. 

The pain and dread that had chased her the previous day were so far away. She felt numb. Drifting. Drained. 

She turned her head against the pillow, and opened her eyes to see Chakotay still lying next to her. He was on his belly, his arms wrapped around the pillow as if it were a lifeline, his face half-hidden in the cushioning. The angry warrior, subdued by sleep but no less powerful at rest.

He’d taken every inch of her, branding her skin with hands and teeth afire with passion, wringing the pleasure from her body over and over again. Her resistance had faded away after the second orgasm, and trailed on into oblivion when the third crested the horizon of her mind. 

His anger and hurt had been so potent, but he’d channeled every last drop into bringing her to orgasm until she couldn’t move another inch. 

It was hardly self-sacrificial. With every spasm of her body, he was reminding her of what she was leaving behind. Of what she would never have again after today. 

Her body pitied her mind’s selfish act of severance. The flesh truly was weak. 

Drawing in a shallow breath, she threw back the sheets and rose from the mattress. Her body ached, overextended and rubbed raw. Ignoring the twinges, she escaped into the bathroom where she pressed up against the sonic shower. 

She listened to sonic hum as the sweat and release were stripped from her skin, taking away the previous night's remnants. Despite having given up so much already, she half-expected tears at the trivial loss of his scent and body fluid lingering on her body, but they didn’t come.

When the sonic shower finished cleaning her, she tip-toed back into the room to find a pair of clothes. She was dressing in front of the mirror when she heard the bedsprings shift and the sheets rustle with movement. Her fingers paused at the buttons of her shirt as she considered turning to face him. 

_ Just rip off the bandaid.  _

She’d been hoping to leave before he awoke and avoid the pain of this confrontation, when the uselessness of the previous night’s efforts became apparent. 

“Leaving so soon?” 

She lifted her chin, and buttoned the collar to her throat. She regarded her reflection with a cool look, and slowly turned to face him. 

“I have to go to Headquarters.” She said, “I have a meeting today.”

“In regards to your upcoming mission?” 

“Yes.” 

He gazed at her with a nearly unreadable expression. His eyes were dark and focused, but the bow of his lips could have been either sad or angry. She couldn’t tell. 

“Some of us were going to meet up for dinner later.” She said, “Will you come?”

“I think I should get back to Arizona.” He said, “Classes …”

“I see.”

She turned back to the mirror, and began to gather her hair into a bun. She could have said a million things in this moment -  _ I’m sorry, I was wrong, please don’t leave … Don’t look so sad. You’re better off without me … You’ll find someone worthy of you one day; maybe she’ll even be interested in paleontology.  _

But none of those things could erase what had already been done, and as such, were futile. 

As Kathryn finished pinning her hair back, Chakotay rose from the bed. She lowered her head as he slid into his trousers. 

“Are you sure you’re not interested in another two years in space?” She whispered. 

“Are you?” 

Her gaze swung from the floor to meet his eyes. She nodded, swallowing against the lump in her throat. 

“One word from me, and it’s done.” She pressed, the words hoarse and trembling. “It could be like it was-”

“It can never be like it was.” He said, his hand cutting decisively through the air. “Now who’s dreaming?”

She nodded, lowering her head again. “You’re right … of course.”

“You spent so much time dreaming about getting home while we were out there.” Chakotay said, “And now that you’re here, you’re leaving again. I don’t understand you, Kathryn.”

“A fish needs water to breathe.” She said, “Maybe I need to be out there …”

She saw pain, anger, and confusion cross his face, but he didn’t speak. He didn’t have to. 

She slid her shoes on, slung her purse over her shoulder, and marched toward the door before she could say anything more that she would regret. 

He followed her to the door, and reached for the unlock button before she could. She swung her gaze over her shoulder, wondering for a second if he intended to stop her.

           “Can we at least say goodbye?” He asked, “If your mind really is made up, we won't see each other again for at least two years.”

           Kathryn couldn’t hold his gaze. She pressed against the door, wishing she could sink through the steel and escape. 

“I’ve never been good at goodbyes.” She whispered. 

She drew in a sharp breath as he leaned closer, the warmth of his breath grazing over her cheek. His lips pressed against her cheekbone, clinging for a brief, longing moment. 

It was only a kiss. 

She tried to convince herself as she lifted her misty eyes to his for one last glance. She could go on. She could complete this two-year mission without him. She could _ live _ without him. 

Kathryn spun, punching the button to open the door with her thumb. The door hissed open, and she rushed out into the hallway. She didn’t look back as she marched down the hall toward the elevator, her head down against the pain cutting through her chest. 

A tear slipped down her cheek, but she dashed it away before it could escape her cheek. 

_ It was only a kiss.  _

 

~

 

Starfleet Headquarters was a hub of bustling activity by the time Kathryn entered the lobby at 0900. After being cleared through security, she informed the young lady at the front desk that she was here to see Admiral Paris. 

She and Admiral Paris had worked together on a number of missions, and he’d hand-picked this mission just for her when she told him of her enduring desire for exploration and discovery. No tactical missions. She wanted strictly scientific missions, the chance to make first contact one last time before her promotion. 

When she was allowed into his office, Paris greeted her with a warm smile. 

“Kathryn.” He said, waving aside her offer of a handshake in exchange for a hug. 

“Admiral Paris.”

“Owen, please.”

“Owen … How have you been?”

“Well.” He said, “And yourself?”

Kathryn hesitated just long enough for him to narrow his eyes at her. 

“Let’s just say the past few days have been very long and tiring.” She said. 

“I wouldn’t pry, of course. Well, I hope you get some solid rest in before the mission. We have you lined up to study three systems in the next two years.”

“I can’t wait to get started.”

Over the next hour, Paris briefed her on the details of the mission. They would be studying newly discovered star systems in the Beta Quadrant containing hundreds of planets and thousands of stars. The laboratories and instruments aboard were cutting-edge. 

Paris showed her the schematics of the vessel, Nova-class science vessel  _ U.S.S. Pilgrim.  _

Kathryn looked over the meager weapon’s supply, and tried to ignore the alarm sirens in her head. She’d spent too many years in the Delta Quadrant relying on photon torpedoes and phaser banks instead of exploring space, the primary reason she’d joined Starfleet. 

“If it’s not to your liking, perhaps I can commission a different vessel…” Paris said, noting the tension on her face. 

“No, no.” Kathryn waved a hand, “She’s beautiful. And she’ll do just fine for the mission we’re on. I have no intention of taking a seven-year detour halfway across space this time.”

“You’ll never be far from the next Deep Space station.” 

Kathryn offered him a smile. She didn’t want him to think she was having second thoughts. She’d made up her mind. 

Paris consulted his watch, remarking, “And if you’re up for it today, your senior officers are up on the 15th floor getting their first hands-on look at the new technology you’ll be working with.”

“My crew?” Kathryn asked, her eyebrows rising, “I thought we wouldn’t be meeting for another few weeks.”

“We’re all in the same building at once. I thought you might want to get acquainted.”

“I-I … of course, yes.”

“Good, I’ll call them down. Would you like a drink while we wait?”

“Just water, please.”

She toyed with the strap of her purse as Owen asked for a subordinate to bring the  _ Pilgrim’s  _ senior staff down to his briefing room. He replicated two glasses of water, and offered the second to her. 

“Thank you.” She murmured. 

Sipping the water, she looked over the schematics of the ship one more time. The ship was similar in build to the  _ Equinox,  _ the only Federation science vessel they had encountered in the Delta Quadrant. The memories of that event were seared in her mind, clearer than she preferred. She couldn’t help but shudder at the thought of being lost in the Delta Quadrant with the few weapons the Nova-class ships bore. Still, she wouldn’t have betrayed her principals like Ransom had. 

A few minutes later, Owen’s door chimed and he beckoned her new crew inside. 

Kathryn rose from her chair, and turned to see three people, two men and one woman, enter the office. 

“Captain Janeway, I’d like you to meet your senior staff.” Owen said, waving a hand between them, “This is your first officer, Gerard Colson.”

Colson extended his hand to her. He was human, with raven black hair slicked back and sharp, gray eyes that latched onto her with nearly overwhelming intensity. 

“Captain.” He said, “I’m happy to finally meet the woman who conquered the Delta Quadrant.”

Kathryn forced a smile. His choice of words left her aghast, not only because of his distinction of “woman” rather than “captain,” but also because she’d never had any intention of “conquering” the Delta Quadrant. 

“Commander Colson is an astrophysicist, part time tactical specialist.” Owen said. 

“Impressive.” Kathryn said. 

Colson smiled at her, in what she was sure he thought was a charming manner. He looked more like a snake flicking its tongue at prey. 

“Your primary science officer, Lieutenant Talin.” Owen introduced the other man, a Vulcan. 

The Vulcan dipped his head in acknowledgment, “It is an honor, Captain Janeway.”

“Thank you.”

“Lieutenant Talin has served on a number of science vessels and a few tactical ones as well.” Owen said, “He’s an expert in biology and ecology.”

“Oh, so we  _ are  _ going to be looking for life forms.” Kathryn smiled. 

“We do hope so.” Owen said. He turned to the the third officer, a Deltan female. “And last, but not least, Lieutenant Mara.” 

“Captain.” Mara said, offering a firm handshake. 

Kathryn kept the handshake brief. She’d heard plenty of rumors about the Deltans’ supposed “irresistible sexuality.” To humans, the Deltans’ naturally bald heads might have been startling, but one look into their bright, intuitive eyes made cultural barriers vaporize. 

“Lieutenant Mara will be your geological expert.” Owen added, “This is her second multi-year mission on a science vessel.”

“Well,” Kathryn said, looking each officer in the eye, “I can see that all of you are highly qualified for this mission, and that alone gives me confidence that we are going to make great discoveries in the next two years.”

“I don’t know about the rest of you, but I can’t wait to get back out there.” Colson said, nudging Lieutenant Talin in the arm. 

The Vulcan regarded him with a cool gaze of disinterest. 

Kathryn cleared her throat to ease the tension that Colson was steadily infusing into the room. “Well, it’s been lovely meeting all of you, but I told some friends I would meet them for lunch.”

After they exchanged farewells, Admiral Paris walked her out of the office. 

“I took my time picking these crew members, you know.” He said as they made their way down the hall. 

“I know-” Kathryn began with a weary sigh. 

“They’re not your old crew …?” Owen finished for her with a knowing smile. 

“I’m sorry.” Kathryn said, holding up a hand. “I hope I didn’t come across as inaccessible or unlikeable. I always prided myself in having an ‘open door policy’ with my crew on  _ Voyager _ .”

“You didn’t.” Owen assured her, “But as someone who has known you longer than five minutes, I can see that this is going to be a difficult adjustment.”

They reached the elevator, and Owen punched the down button. 

As they waited, Kathryn said,  “I just saw many of my officers from _Voyager_ for the first time in awhile at the dinner. I realized how much time has passed since I’ve spoken to some of them, and it made me feel guilty.” 

“You’re not their captain any longer. You’re not obligated to maintain your open door policy.”

“We were together for seven years. I’ll always be their captain … and to some of them, I’m more than that - and always will be.” 

Owen inspected her downcast expression with compassionate gaze. 

“Being a captain is hard enough.” He said, “Being responsible for the lives of over one hundred people for nearly a decade is even harder. You should give yourself more credit.” 

The elevator doors slid open, waiting to usher her back to ground level. 

“Well,” Owen said, touching her elbow. “It was wonderful seeing you again, Kathryn.”

“You as well.” 

She stepped inside the elevator, and drew in a deep breath until the doors closed. As the elevator began its descent, she leaned against the cool, steel wall and let her lungs decompress. She knew the tension wouldn’t elapse completely until she was out of this building. She considered Owen’s comment about giving herself more credit, and wondered if she would ever allow herself to breathe and relax in anyone’s company but her own again. 

 

~

 

The senior crew had agreed to meet at Scoma’s, a seafood joint in the Marina District. The Fisherman’s Wharf glistened on one side while Presidio hosted entertainment on the other. Kathryn could glimpse _ Voyager _ ’s sleek, silver hull even at this distance. 

Tom, B’Elanna, Harry, and The Doctor were already assembled at a corner booth facing the wharf. Harry and The Doctor had brought along their dates. All of them were smiling and laughing together as Kathryn approached. 

“Captain!” 

The salutation was quick to jump from their mouths. B’Elanna wiggled out from behind the booth, and hugged her. 

“You look like you just came from Starfleet Command.” She said, standing back to eye Kathryn’s uniform. 

“I did.” 

B’Elanna’s eyes narrowed, head cocking in curiosity. 

“I have an announcement, but not until everyone is here.” Kathryn said, “Tuvok’s still coming, isn’t he?”

“He agreed.” Tom said, “Rather reluctantly, I think.”

“Do Vulcans eat seafood?” B’Elanna asked. 

“Vulcans are vegetarians.” The Doctor supplied, “In their case, I believe that eliminates any and all meat.”

“We’ll find something for him.” Kathryn said with a wave of her hand. 

“Do you know if Chakotay is coming?” B’Elanna asked, “I texted him earlier, but he didn’t reply.”

Kathryn pursed her lips. She struggled to keep the emotion off her face as she shook her head. 

“I think he had to get back to Arizona. Classes.”

“Well, he could have at least said goodbye.” B’Elanna said, indignant. 

“I know, I didn’t get to say goodbye either.” Kathryn said, her throat clenching at the memory of his brief kiss. 

B’Elanna regarded her dismal expression for a moment, but much to Kathryn’s relief, she didn’t pursue the conversation any further. If she realized what was going on between Kathryn and Chakotay, she was keeping it to herself; and if Kathryn hadn’t realized it before, she knew now that there wasn’t anyone else here she would rather keep her secret. 

“Let’s sit down.” B’Elanna suggested, “We already ordered sides. They should be out any moment.” 

The waitress arrived with the side dishes a few minutes later, and despite the early hour, Kathryn ordered a glass of wine from her. 

While the other crew members chatted, she leaned back against the booth and watched the sun glisten on the gentle waves of the wharf, and the boats tilt and rock in the breeze. 

When Starfleet had first announced this reunion, she’d told herself that she could handle three days. Three days were incremental in comparison to all of time and space. But the longer she was here, away from her work and all the distractions of daily life, the more she began to realize this unhappiness she was feeling wasn’t an anomalous occurrence she could forget about when this weekend was over. It spanned the depth and breadth of her being, down to her soul - and it hadn’t left her side since  _ Voyager _ ’s return to earth, and she and Chakotay had parted ways in silence. 

The side dishes were nearly gone by the time Tuvok arrived. 

Kathryn made room for him on the bench beside her. 

“Captain.” He greeted her. 

“Tuvok, I thought you might not make it.”

“You did ask that I come.”

“Well, I appreciate it.” She said, giving the back of his hand a squeeze. 

The front door of the restaurant opened again. Kathryn stilled at the sight of Seven entering. Whatever resentment she’d held towards Chakotay for the brief relationship didn’t extend to Seven. They had been mentor and student, and later friends, too long for personal entanglements to tear them apart. But the sight of her still made Kathryn’s heart ache. 

Seven joined them at the table, even smiling when The Doctor pulled her into a hug. 

She’d made progress with her pursuit of humanity in the year since their return. Kathryn’s sadness couldn’t overshadow her pride, though she wished her problems with Chakotay weren’t present to dull the satisfaction. 

Kathryn watched her as the crew interacted, barely contributing to the conversation herself. After they finished eating, Kathryn excused herself to get refill on her wineglass from the bar. Seven extricated herself from the booth, and followed. 

“Captain,” She said as she joined Kathryn at the bar. 

“Seven.”

“May we talk?” 

Kathryn’s eyebrows rose. It had only taken a year to dim her recollection of how straightforward Seven could be. 

“Of course.” She said. 

“Perhaps in private?”

Kathryn glanced back at the booth where the rest of the crew sat. They were all too engaged to notice her and Seven’s absence. 

Kathryn nodded. 

They exited the restaurant through the back door, and stepped out onto the boardwalk facing the wharf. Tourists and civilians milled along the edge of the wharf, and overhead, seagulls communicated in shrill cries. The sun was blinding against the water, reflecting uncomfortable summer heat onto their faces as they leaned against the railing. 

“I know you would prefer it if I be blunt.” Seven said. 

“I would.” 

“I would like to talk to you about Chakotay.” Seven said, clasping her hands behind her back. She met Kathryn’s gaze with a cool, collected expression. 

“Perhaps not that blunt.” Kathryn murmured, turning her gaze to the boats rocking against their moorings. 

“Nevertheless, it is a topic we both need to be honest about with each other.” 

“Go on.” Kathryn said, dryly. 

“We were together for less than a year.” Seven said, “But it only took me that long to realize that I was not his primary choice for a mate.” 

Kathryn massaged her thumb and forefinger over the bridge of her nose, and exhaled a weary sigh. 

“You were.” Seven added. 

“Seven, where is this going?” Kathryn asked, throwing up an exasperated hand, “I think we’re both observant enough to realize what you’re saying.”

“If you intend on leaving San Francisco without confronting him, you will be making a fatal mistake.” Seven said, her pale blue eyes flashing in the noon sun, “He loves you, Captain.”

“Are you advocating on his behalf?” Kathryn asked, “The man who entered a relationship with you fully knowing it wouldn’t last?” 

“I do not resent him.” Seven said, “Part of learning to be human is understanding the pain as well as the pleasures of emotion. There was no malice in his actions … only sorrow.”

“Emotions are far more complex than that, Seven.” Kathryn said, “You still have a lot to learn.”

“I know enough. I consider both of you to be my friends, and it is in your best interest to pursue your feelings towards each other. I feel that I am obligated to ‘advocate on his behalf’.” 

“Have you considered that it’s none of your business?” 

Kathryn pursed her lips, and glared out at the wharf, instantly regretting the remark. 

Seven’s chin tilted up against the verbal blow. 

They fell into silence for a moment, the sound of the water sloshing against the pier filling in the lapse of conversation. 

“Look, Seven,” Kathryn said, softly, “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but what’s happened cannot be fixed in the space of three days. I have to work through this how I see fit.” 

“You are stubborn,” Seven said, “And you cannot see what you will not see … what the rest of us see - what  _ he  _ sees.”

“My vision is perfectly clear.” Kathryn said, her voice lowering, “And what I see are wounds. Wounds that I’ve inflicted, and the wounds that have been inflicted on me … the ones that have changed me. And they do change us, Seven, no matter how strong we think we are. I’m not the same woman that granted Chakotay the role of First Officer, the woman who would rather destroy the Array than get her crew home …”

“If I’ve learned anything about humanity, it’s that change is constant - and necessary.” Seven said, firmly, “It nullifies nothing.” 

Kathryn looked after her as Seven spun on her heel and marched back to the restaurant. The cry of a seagull split the air over Kathryn’s head, and she turned back to wharf to watch it’s white wings glint under the sun on it’s path toward the ocean. Somewhere out there was escape - if only she had the wings of a bird. 


	4. Chapter 4

When Kathryn awoke in her bed in Indiana the Monday morning following the weekend retreat in San Francisco, she wondered if the entire three days had been a part of some strange dream. 

She dragged herself out of bed and into the bathroom where she consulted the mirror. The faded hickeys on her neck and breasts were evidence that it had been entirely real. She leaned against the sink, silently damning herself for the fatal course the weekend had taken all thanks to her fractured sense of right and wrong. 

She’d gone back to the hotel after lunch at the wharf, half-hoping Chakotay would still be in her room. He wasn’t. Room service had come through in her absence, wiping away all evidence of his presence. The sheets had been tugged taut over the mattress, and every square inch of the room disinfected and smelling of lemon rather than the lingering smell of sex and cologne she’d awoken to that morning. 

She had considered sending him a message, but after staring at the blank text field for five minutes, she had put the padd aside. Nothing she could say would alleviate the cutting pain of her actions. Nothing she could say could absolve her. 

She took the transporter back to Indiana, praying she could leave the whole, terrible weekend in the past. 

But as the launch date for the  _ U.S.S. Pilgrim  _ grew closer, she couldn’t shake the knot forming in her stomach. The dread had no real objective that she could pin down, but her thoughts were a flurry of panic. She suffered a handful of nightmares about the Delta Quadrant. Those she could shake off. The ones about Chakotay jolted her awake in the middle of the night with his name on her lips. She couldn’t recall every detail about the dreams, but when she awoke, his face was branded in her mind and dread churned in her belly. 

Two weeks before the launch date, she transported back to San Francisco to make final preparations for the two year mission. Starfleet was putting her up in another hotel, this one closer to Headquarters. She was thankful to avoid the Palace Hotel and all the memories that came with it’s ivory facade. 

They were scheduled to transport up to the Space Dock that Wednesday to view the  _ Pilgrim  _ for the first time. 

Kathryn slid into her uniform in front of the mirror, completing an image she had faced down for seven straight years. Few things had changed about her reflection, but she could glimpse the weariness in her own eyes. 

She combed her fingers through her hair, considering a visit to the salon before the mission launched. She’d let it grow since their return to Earth, but the short style had suited her on  _ Voyager.  _ Less trouble, fewer minutes spent before a mirror in the morning. Nothing vain about the life of a captain. 

She tied it back for the time being, and left the hotel room with her shoulders squared. 

She emerged from the elevator in the lobby, and strode toward the front doors of the hotel. Her confident pace came a staggering halt when she viewed a familiar face lingering by the front desk. 

Leaned against the desk, the tall, trim officer in full uniform spoke in low tones to the youthful receptionist. Even at this distance, it was obvious he was responsible for the flush crawling up the girl’s cheeks. 

As Kathryn came to a pause in the middle of the lobby, Commander Colson turned his attention from the clerk. He dipped his head in acknowledgement at her, a smile curling his mouth. He gave one final remark to the girl before wrapping his knuckles on the desk, and heading across the lobby. 

As he approached, she found herself mentally raising shields. She couldn’t place a finger on what troubled her about her new first officer, but she’d never questioned her gut. 

“Commander.” She said. 

“Captain,” Colson said, “Headed for Space Dock?” 

“Yes. I assume we’re going the same way?”

“They put us up in the same hotel.” Colson replied, “I made the educated guess I might catch you here. Thought I might have the honor of escorting the captain to the bridge.” 

_ I’m perfectly capable of escorting myself, thank you. _

If he’d been just any brazen, flirtatious officer, she would have spoken the words aloud. But she had to spend the next two years in close quarters with this man, and the last thing she wanted was another work relationship filled with animosity. 

She chose to say nothing, instead nodding in agreement. 

They fell into step across the lobby. Colson held the door for her, and she stepped out onto the busy sidewalk. A line was forming at the intersection where the nearest transporter station churned atoms into space. 

She caught Colson smiling at her out of the corner of her eye. 

“What?” 

“You’ll have to forgive me.” He said, waving a hand, “I have a lot of questions that I’d like to ask you.”

“About the Delta Quadrant? It’s not as exciting as everyone makes it out to be. Mostly it’s a lot of empty space with very few friendly faces. I wouldn’t recommend it.” 

“As a former tactical officer, it sounds just right.” 

“There’s nothing glamorous about war, Commander.” 

“Are you saying you’re not proud of all those medals of valor Starfleet pinned on your chest when you got home?” 

“I’m saying all I wanted to do was get my crew home.” She said, casting him a sharp gaze. “Earning a medal was never on the agenda.” 

Colson nodded slowly, lips compressing in an intrigued bow. “I see.” 

“Is that why joined Starfleet?” Kathryn asked, “To win a medal?”

“It couldn’t hurt.” 

“You’re smart to switch from tactical to science, then. Here in the Alpha Quadrant, exploration is what earns you recognition. The Delta Quadrant is a few hundred years behind on Federation peace policies.” 

“I’m sure we’ll find some hunk of rock or life form out there worth considering.” 

Kathryn directed her scowl away from Colson. 

Science was her religion, and Colson might as well have pissed all over the sanctuary. She didn’t know if she could work with a first officer who didn’t value discovery and first contact the way she did. 

The line for the transporter moved forward, relieving her of the duty of carrying on any further conversation with Colson. 

When they materialized in Space Dock, they were greeted by Admiral Paris, Lieutenant Talin, and Lieutenant Mara. They exchanged greetings before Paris motioned for them to follow him. 

Through one of the massive windows on their right, they could view the stern of the  _ Pilgrim  _ waiting at dock. 

“We did a complete redesign of the Nova class last year.” Paris said, smiling proudly at the ship, “After the prototypes were completed and tested, we came out with this beauty. She’s never left dock.” 

Kathryn crossed her arms as she approached the window, craning her neck to view the towering hull. The ship was small in comparison to  _ Voyager,  _ but at this view, they were ants at her feet. 

The ship was a beauty as Admiral Paris had said, but as Kathryn gazed up at the sleek hull, clean, glinting plating, and narrow, graceful nacelles she was struck with a sense of devastating loss. It reminded her of the week following her sixteenth birthday, when her favorite horse on the farm passed away. Her father had presented her with a brand new horse, just as beautiful, capable, strong, and friendly as the first; but when she visited the horse in it’s stable, she couldn’t bring herself to saddle and bridle him. Instead of riding, she’d cried for hours into his silky mane. 

Nothing could compare to the original. 

Kathryn stepped away from the window, drawing in a deep breath. 

“Ready to see the inside?” Paris asked. 

His gaze snagged on her tense expression for a moment, but for the sake of her dignity, carried on without another pause. He led them to shuttle bay, where they boarded a small craft that would carry them up to the  _ Pilgrim.  _

As the ship loomed closer, Kathryn felt the sudden, great finality of the next two years converge on her chest. When she had received her commission aboard  _ Voyager,  _ she had been full of light and joy, floating with anticipation. This sensation she experienced now was that of a huge boulder coming to rest on her chest, threatening to crush her. 

Two years were an eternity when you were alone with only yourself to blame for your regrets and pain. 

The shuttle docked with a jolt. The doors slid open, beckoning them to a clean, white space illuminated in fluorescent. The ship was sleek and clean, the smell of freshly recycled parts still clinging to the bulkheads. 

Kathryn followed Paris, taking in the details of the ship with dazed eyes. She was trying hard to attach a sense of ownership to the  _ Pilgrim _ , the same pride and affection she’d had with  _ Voyager.  _

How many times had she whispered “be kind,” and  _ Voyager  _ had responded generously in turn? How many times had the warp core clung to life just long enough to pull them from danger? How many times had the shields held to the bitter end? 

Would the  _ Pilgrim  _ be just as kind, just as loyal and trustworthy? 

They toured the corridors, labs, and crew quarters before Paris led them to the turbolift leading up to Deck One. The rooms were deserted except for engineers putting the last touches on the ship. Without a crew, the rooms echoed with some kind of emotionless void; and when they emerged on the Bridge, Kathryn couldn’t imagine the stations occupied. Not the way they had been on  _ Voyager _ . 

Colson looked over the weapon’s array while Talin took his place at the science station.

Kathryn startled when Lieutenant Mara’s arm brushed up against his elbow. She swung his gaze over to see the other woman smiling intently. She motioned toward the captain’s chair. 

“You should try it out.” 

Kathryn drew in a deep breath as she looked across the Bridge at the command chair. The seat beside it was reserved for Colson, but it hadn’t yet been entrusted with his weight. She could still imagine someone else sitting beside her, even though she knew it would never be that way again. 

“I think I’ll wait.” She said. 

Mara didn’t press her despite the small frown that curled her brow. 

Paris was discussing the design of the ship with Colson and Talin, leaving them alone. Mara gently took Kathryn by the elbow and led her toward the other side of the Bridge. 

“Will you be in the city all week?” She asked. 

“Until launch date.” Kathryn said, “Why?” 

“I have invited Colson and Talin to dinner tonight.” Mara said, “I like to know who I’m working with before I’m stuck with them for the next two years.”

“That’s very kind of you.” Kathryn said, “But I don’t think I can make it.” 

Mara’s sharp, gray eyes shifted over Kathryn’s defensive posture as if performing a precise dissection. Kathryn warmed beneath her gaze, not so much threatened as she was disarmed. 

“The other two are simple.” Mara said, at last, “They are the perfect representation of their gender, class, and race. But you are not; you are a mystery to me, Captain.” 

“And that bothers you?” 

“Yes.” 

Kathryn blinked, surprised by Mara’s unperturbed honesty. 

“You will be my commanding officer for the next two years.” Mara said, “Your relationship is the most important to me. The others I will work alongside with; but I must honor and obey you at every turn. I want to know you.”

“Serving on a starship isn’t about being friends with everyone.” Kathryn said, “And you don’t have to know me to respect me. That I am captain is reason enough.” 

An intuitive smile crept across Mara’s mouth, and Kathryn knew she was seeing right through the lie. She folded, knowing resisting this olive branch would only make the next two years more uncomfortable. 

“But I’ll come to dinner.” She said. 

Mara’s smile widened. She turned, and brushed past Kathryn’s shoulder, a pleased spring in her step. 

Kathryn didn’t breathe until she was gone.

The next two years loomed in the distant like some great, evolving beast whose shape, color, and size changed with every modification to her defenses. Just when one compartment was in place, another blew out, exposing her like a raw wound. She couldn’t be sure when the rest of them would begin to collapse, one by one; one day soon, she would be nothing but wreckage. 

 

~

 

Kathryn dressed in a simple, black dress for that evening’s dinner. Diamond stud earrings and low heels completed the nondescript look. She didn’t want attention tonight, not anymore than what was necessary for this evening to unfold in a quick, painless fashion. 

She took the transporter to the coordinates Mara had given her when they parted ways at Space Dock. She materialized in the transport station on the main drag of Hayes Street. The neon, green header of the Absinthe restaurant glowed just ahead. 

Drawing in a deep breath, Kathryn strode down the sidewalk to the front door of the restaurant. The establishment with buzzing with a cavalier and jovial aura, and clamoring with conversation and the clink of glasses. 

Mara, Colson, and Talin had already arrived, and were waiting at the hostess station to be seated. 

Colson was dressed in casual slacks and a blazer, Talin in a traditional, Vulcan tunic, and Mara in a swirling chiffon dress in olive green. The hostess asked them to follow her to their table, and Kathryn suppressed a groan. The four of them looked like they were on a double date. No doubt some unassuming observer would unconsciously pair her off with Colson. 

Kathryn snagged the seat next to Mara, stranding the two men together on the other side of the table. Talin was unbothered by this arrangement, but Kathryn could all but read the irritation in Colson’s gaze. 

Which one of them was he setting his sights on? Mara was the easiest target, being from a race of nymphs, but Kathryn had met more than her share of men like him. He preferred the hardest catch, the hunt, the  _ conquest _ . 

“I just want to say thank you for everyone agreeing to dinner tonight.” Mara said, looking each one of them in the eye. “I am looking forward to serving with all of you.” 

“Likewise.” Colson said, flashing a smile. 

“It will be an honor.” Talin said, his tone flat with Vulcan sobriety. 

“Yes, and thank you for inviting us.” Kathryn added. 

They looked over the menus, commenting on the dishes that looked the most appetizing. By the time the waitress returned, they had made their choices. She took drink orders, and promised to return in quick order. 

“Well,” Colson said, “I know all of us are dying to ask.” He shot Kathryn a hopeful smile, “Do you have any tall tales about the Delta Quadrant, Captain Janeway?”

The back of her neck prickled with dread, and she raised a sharp brow at him. 

“None quite as tall as the ones the cadets are passing around the Academy right about now.” Kathryn said. 

“That’s how you know they love you.” He said, “So how about it? Will your regale us with exotic stories of the undiscovered worlds?”

“Well, there was nothing exotic about it.” Kathryn said, “I believe I already told you, Commander, but I didn’t particularly enjoy my stay in the Delta Quadrant.”

“Captain Janeway is correct.” Talin said, “ _ Voyager _ ’s logs are saved in Starfleet data banks which are freely accessible to Starfleet personnel. Perhaps you can read them, if your curiosity needs to be satisfied.” 

Colson shot Talin a withering glare. 

Kathryn bit back a chuckle. 

“I’m more interested in your career previous to  _ Voyager _ .” Mara interjected, touching Kathryn’s forearm with a warm hand. “I’ve read some of the data banks myself. You have an impressive record.” 

“If my life is such a matter of public record, why do we have to talk about me at all?” Kathryn asked, spreading her hands, “Why not talk about the rest of you? It seems you all know more about me than I know about you.” 

“We can do like in high school.” Colson said, “State your name, three hobbies, and what your favorite class is.” 

“I can start.” Mara said, sitting forward with a smile, “You all know my name already, I enjoy geology, tai chi, and old Terran films. My favorite class was science.” 

“Tai chi?” Kathryn echoed. 

“I started out in the karate class in Starfleet, but I wanted a more refined form of martial arts. They transferred me on my third week in the class because I was beating all the other cadets.” 

“Well, then, it’s a pity you wasted your life on rocks.” Colson said. 

“Well, my people don’t believe in war.” Mara said, “I see tai chi as an art form, but I had to choose a field in science to gain their approval. They didn’t want me to join Starfleet to begin with.” 

“Your race is somewhat extinct within Starfleet, isn’t it?” Kathryn asked. 

“We’ve chosen to devote our lives to science and exploration, but many of my people have become separatists.” Mara said, “They don’t want to involve themselves in the affairs of other races.” 

“But you did?” 

“The universe is so big.” Mara said, shrugging, “I didn’t want to stay in our own little corner of it.” 

“This is the attitude I look for in my crew.” Kathryn said, pointing at Mara, “First and foremost, Starfleet is about discovery, not war, not territory, not the military.” 

“Thank you, Captain.” Mara said. 

Colson cleared his throat, bringing their attention back across the table. 

“Well,” He said, “I may not be a black belt in tai chi, but I enjoy the martial arts myself. I was in the heavy-weight boxing division during my Starfleet Academy days.” 

“Boxing isn’t an art form like tai chi.” Mara said, coolly, “It’s two men pummelling each other into a mat while a bloodthirsty crowd cheers out of some kind of twisted amusement.” 

Colson’s face flushed, a scowl curling across his brows. 

“I’ve been decorated twice by the Federation.” He said, “One of those was a medal of valor for saving a battalion of men during a combat situation. Maybe it’s not an art form, but it sure as hell came in handy out in the Badlands.” 

Mara pursed her lips, demurring to Colson’s heated response. 

“Talin,” Kathryn said, smiling to ease the tension, “What about you? Any hobbies?”

“Vulcans do not have  _ hobbies _ .” 

“One of my dearest friends is a Vulcan.” Kathryn replied, “And he’s rather fond of the game  _ kal-toh. _ I’m sure you’ve heard of it.”

“ _ Kal-toh  _ is not merely a game.” Talin said, his eyebrow flickering upward, “It is a test of logic and strategy between two intellectuals.” 

“Logic? That’s your hobby?” Colson said, “How very predictable of you.” 

“As I said, Vulcans do not have hobbies.” Talin said, “And this exercise is pointless. It is not necessary for officers to know one another intimately in order to operate efficiently as a unit.”

“Forgive us our human failings.” Colson replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm, “But unlike you, we’re not a bunch of robots programmed to function ‘ as a unit’.” 

Talin appeared to be opening his mouth to offer a rebuttal, but Kathryn leaned forward with a raised hand. 

“All right, gentlemen. Isn’t part of Starfleet’s beauty it’s diversity?” 

“That’s what they say.” 

Colson managed to comment before Kathryn’s ensuing reply was gagged by the return of the waitress. She set their drinks and appetizers before them, reporting that the main courses would be on their way in no time. 

When she was gone again, the moment to verbally thrash Colson was gone. He was already layering his sarcasm and surly remarks with amicable conversation. 

Kathryn took a rejuvenating sip of her drink, depending on the alcohol to get her through the night. 

While Mara and Colson discussed their Academy days, Kathryn peered around the restaurant for any sign of their dinner. It seemed like an eternity before the waitress came back, guiding their meal before her on a hovering tray. They accepted their plates, waving off her offer to get them anything more. 

With dinner in front of her, Kathryn breathed a sigh of relief. Not only could she hide her lack of conversation with eating, she could also expedite the night as quickly as she could. 

Colson and Mara’s Starfleet Academy conversation turned to their complaints about the institution, from the strict rules to the worst professors. Colson launched into a story about how he and some friends had pranked a professor, and while he and Mara laughed, Kathryn and Talin exchanged commiserating glances of irritation. 

“What about you, Captain?” Colson asked, “I bet you were an overachiever in your Academy days.” 

“I had my share of fun.” Kathryn said, “But I studied hard, and I graduated at the top of my class.”

“I bet you didn’t settle for anything but an A.” 

“I set high standards for myself.” 

“Oh my god,” Colson said, slapping a hand on his thigh, “You were a teacher’s pet, weren’t you?” 

“No, no.” Kathryn said, shaking her head, “There were no teacher’s pets in Starfleet Academy.” 

“Are you kidding?” Colson chuckled, “You say that as a second generation Starfleet cadet. Your dad was an Admiral, right?” 

Kathryn dipped her head. She wasn’t about to bring her father into this irreverent conversation. He would be rolling in his grave if he could hear Colson right now. 

“Me? My family hadn’t  _ touched  _ Starfleet.” Colson said, “I had to claw my way in.”

“Maybe I was privileged.” Kathryn admitted, “But that didn’t mean I didn’t have to work hard for my grades.” 

“Sure, but it didn’t hurt either.” 

“Well, while you were out carousing with your friends and playing immature jokes on your professors, I was scoring perfect grades in written testing and physical training.” Kathryn replied, maintaining a calm tone. 

If Colson believed he was going to win her over with this “charming bad boy” routine, he didn’t know her in the slightest. And he wasn’t winning any points by degrading some of her most respected professors. 

Colson’s lips compressed; she could see him getting frustrated. 

“That’s why I’m captain.” Kathryn added, slapping a smile on her face to rub salt into the wound. 

“I’m not interested in becoming captain anyway.” Colson said, “I’ve put my life on the line for Starfleet, and that should be recognition enough. Once I retire, I’ll get a nice pension, maybe snag myself a pretty, young wife.” 

He winked at Mara. 

Kathryn had the instinct to reach over and grab the other woman’s arm, as if to shield her from Colson’s remarks. 

“I suppose we’re not alike in that aspect.” Colson added. 

“What aspect is that?” 

“They’ll use you up and suck you dry.” Colson said, “I want something left over for myself. A wife, a family.”

The tension rippling just below the surface broke free to clutch Kathryn by the back of the neck. She curled her hand tightly around her fork, envisioning how it might look stabbing into Colson’s eye. 

“For someone who claims loyalty to Starfleet, you have an awful lot of negative things to say about the organization.” Kathryn said. 

“It’s a job, not a life.” Colson said, “I’m sure you don’t feel the same way.” 

“It’s my career.” 

“I’m starting to realize that.” 

“The sooner you do, the better.” 

Mara leaned forward, as if to negotiate the tension rising between them. 

“I think what Lieutenant Colson means is that it’s always good to have a balance between your personal and professional life.” 

Colson waved a dramatic hand toward Mara. “Exactly. You took the words out of my mouth.” 

“Forgive me,” Kathryn said, releasing a low chuckle, “but there’s no difference when you’re on a deep space assignment. Especially not when you’re responsible for an entire crew’s safety.” 

“So you’re telling me that the whole time you were gone - what was it, seven years? - that you never took any time for yourself?” Colson asked, his eyes widening in disbelief, “That you never once said ‘fuck it, I deserve this’?” 

“No, I did not say ‘fuck it’.” 

“I find that hard to believe.” Colson said, sitting back with his arms crossed, “A woman like you, far from home, without Starfleet looking over your shoulder-”

“What does that mean? A woman like me?” Kathryn snapped, heat scalding at her throat now. She was thankful for the dim lighting in the restaurant, and the overlapping conversations around them to dull the angry, defensive edge in her voice. 

Colson sputtered for a moment before waving across the table at her. 

“You’re a beautiful, capable woman.” He said, “All I’m saying is, it would be a waste-”

“All right, that’s it.” Kathryn said, rising from the her chair. 

Everyone around the table froze as she dropped her fork to the table with a clatter. 

“You’ve crossed the line, Commander.” She said, “We may be having a casual dinner right now, but if you expect to spend the next two years commenting on my appearance and what I choose to do with my body, we are not going to get along.” 

“I’m sorry, that’s not how I meant it. I’m just saying-”

“I don’t give a damn what your point it.” She said, moving behind Mara’s chair to escape the restaurant, “If you ever disrespect me like that again, you won’t like the consequences.” 

She marched away from the table before her anger could produce anymore threats she couldn’t keep. Storming toward the front door, blood pumping, she had the urge to cry - out of frustration, anger? No, she wasn’t as angry as she was disappointed that he was right. 

She fled onto the sidewalk where a cool, summer breeze eased the flush throbbing through her neck and cheeks. Shouldering her way past other pedestrians, she made it all the transporter station before she realized one of her dinner companions had followed her out of the restaurant. 

“Captain, wait!”

Kathryn sucked in a deep breath as she broke her stride. She had to fix this before launch date; she couldn’t go into the mission with this impression of her fresh in her crew’s minds. 

Turning slowly, she saw Mara jogging down the sidewalk toward her, the long, loose gown swirling around her ankles. A frown marred her brow as she came up alongside Kathryn. 

“Captain, I want to apologize.”

“For what?” 

“For making you come to this dinner. It was a bad idea, I realize that now.” 

“It was a fine idea.” Kathryn said, “Colson is the problem.”

“He’s crass, I know.” 

“I can’t believe Admiral Paris hand-picked him for this mission.” Kathryn said, rubbing her forehead to ease the dull ache of frustration. 

“He can sweet talk if he wants to.” 

“I know his type.” 

“Captain,” Mara said, wringing her hands in front of her, “I want to salvage this evening.” 

Kathryn smiled, weakly. She momentarily wondered how Mara had ended up in Starfleet; her personality was too gentle and unassuming to match most of the ambitious, adventurous souls preparing for a life among the stars. 

“How about a nightcap?” She asked. 

 

~

 

Kathryn released a sigh as she slid her feet out of the heels, and leaned back against the cushions of the settee in her hotel room. 

Mara poured them both drinks at the mini bar, and brought one over to her. 

“Thank you.” Kathryn murmured. 

Mara stood by the settee for a moment, before Kathryn waved for her to sit down. She settled at the other end of the cushion, her hands fluttering around her glass. 

“Tell me,” Kathryn said, “how did you end up here?” 

“It was like I said earlier.” Mara said, “I wanted to explore life outside of our solar system. Starfleet seemed like the safest route to do that.” 

“Safe.” Kathryn muttered, a chuckle grinding from her throat. 

“I know it’s not. Especially not the Delta Quadrant.” 

“Mmm.” 

“There’s a lot that got left out of the reports in the Starfleet data banks, isn’t there?” 

Kathryn opened her eyes to see Mara gazing at her with her wide, gray eyes, unblinking and scathing in their truthfulness. 

“Personal logs are probably better suited for whatever happened out there.” Mara said, her head tilting inquisitively. 

“There’s one thing to remember about the Delta Quadrant.” Kathryn said, holding up a finger, “And it is that you are alone - utterly, completely alone. Your ship is an island, and the space around you is the sea; it’s full of sharks. Very unfriendly sharks.” 

Mara nodded, her gaze drifting to the amber liquid in her cup. 

“Sharks can smell blood.” She whispered. 

“Sometimes they can’t be blamed, because they’re only following their instincts.” Kathryn said, “Others are self-aware, and bent on your destruction anyways.” 

She lifted her glass, tasting the burn of straight whiskey with a wince. The fire trickled down her throat, into her belly, and she took another swallow to let that sensation simmer. 

“You know,” She said, forcing a laugh, “I haven’t gotten angry like that in a long time.” 

“No?” Mara asked, “It seemed to come to you very easily.” 

“It’s like riding a bike.” Kathryn said, “All it takes is one fresh, real emotion …And I haven’t felt one until now in what seems like forever.” 

Mara’s throat shifted in an anxious swallow. She didn’t know how to respond to such a personal remark, the kind which Kathryn had kept hidden so far. 

“After awhile, you stop feeling the blows.” Kathryn said, her voice dropping to a whisper, “It all goes numb. You start to think, mind over matter - if I don’t mind it, it doesn’t matter. But that’s when it all starts to slip away.” 

Mara turned to face Kathryn, her eyes gentle now with compassion. 

“I can tell how sad you are.” She whispered. 

“Sad?” Kathryn echoed, “Sadness is this great, heavy thing, Mara. It’s a monstrosity. What I feel is empty.” 

“You lost something?” 

“Along the way, I lost a little bit of everything. A little piece here, a little piece there. There’s nothing left for myself because I’ve given it all away to things that don’t belong to me anymore, people who are far away.” 

She sat up against the cushions, and tilted her glass back. Draining the last of the alcohol, she pressed a hand her to mouth while the liquid scalded down into her chest. She held out the glass to Mara for a refill, and Mara took it without question. 

Kathryn reclined again, staring at the ceiling. 

“He was right.” She murmured. 

“Captain?” 

Mara stood over her with a fresh glass. 

“Colson.” Kathryn said, taking the cup from Mara, “I never did give myself anything, but maybe I should have.” 

“Everyone deserves happiness.” 

Kathryn sipped the whiskey, swallowing it back with the lump in her throat. 

“You think I do?” 

“Of course.” 

“You don’t know half of what I’ve done.” 

“I’m sure you did what you thought was right … whatever the circumstance was.” 

Kathryn dropped the glass to her lap, clinging onto her private pain for a few moments before her defenses buckled. She watched the force fields and shields blow, telling herself she would rebuild in the morning. 

“I had the chance to be happy.” She said, “And you know what I did? I sent him away. I told him that this career, this mission was more important, when in reality, there was nothing I wanted more than him.” 

Mara blinked, surprised but not driven away by this outpouring of honesty. 

“Then why did you?” She asked. 

“I wasn’t lying when I said there was no difference between my personal and professional life. My identity is bound up in being captain. My whole life was pursuing that goal, and when I got it, I submerged myself entirely. I convinced myself that I had to uphold every guideline, every duty to Starfleet; I was sure that didn’t include sacrificing my career for the sake of love.” 

Kathryn paused, taking another bolstering drink. The truth was gushing from every exploded compartment, every tucked away pain she’d ever felt racing for escape in this moment. 

“But you know what?” She added, her voice tempered with pain and anger, “None of it matters. All the rules I followed, all the duties I thought I was performing - they mean nothing now. It’s all trivial in comparison to what I let walk away.” 

Mara was silent for a moment. When she reached over to touch Kathryn’s ankle, Kathryn forced herself not to recoil. She’d been avoiding intimate contact for so long that even this small gesture felt like an violation. 

“You think he hates you.” She said, her eyes closing. 

Kathryn stiffened at the warm brush of telepathic contact that rippled across her mind. She knew about the Deltans’ powers, but the experience was unlike anything described in a textbook. It was more of a sense than tangible contact, that feeling that niggles in the back of your mind when someone is watching you. 

“You feel unworthy.” Mara continued, “Damaged. You’re afraid you’re not the person he used to love.” 

Kathryn’s eyes squeezed shut as the telepathic bond increased to encompass her entire body. The blanket of warmth slipping over her being relaxed the tension in her muscles, letting loose her steely determination not to cry. The first tear slipped down her cheek, clinging to her jaw for a brief second before another raced down to shake it free. 

“You feel alone.” Mara whispered, “It’s the loneliness that’s killing you, but it’s your pride that’s stopping you from reaching out. You have to be strong, just like you always were.” 

Kathryn gasped in a breath, then a sob as her body released all the pain she’d been holding back for far too long. The tears came steadily, dampening her cheeks and trickling down her neck into the well between her collarbones. Mara’s hand didn’t leave her ankle, letting the connection continue even as her interpretation paused. 

Setting her glass on the floor, Kathryn leaned forward to rest her head on Mara’s shoulder. Her body bowed toward the soft light and warmth of Mara’s presence, gleaning as much of this healing sensation as she could. 

Mara’s hand drifted from her ankle. The connection slipped away like a fog dissipating, but Kathryn still clung onto the remnants of warmth. 

Mara’s fingers brushed her shoulder, rendering a simple, physical touch that didn’t resemble the telepathic connection that had come before. 

“You don’t have to be alone.” She whispered. 

Kathryn lifted her head, sniffing back the tears still squeezing from her eyes. Mara’s gray eyes pulled her into a floating state of resigned control. She bent forward, pressing her mouth hastily against Mara’s. 

It was reckless. The kind of behavior she had looked down upon Colson for. 

But she hadn’t tasted this intimacy and level of acceptance since that fated night at the Palace Hotel with Chakotay. She was starving for it, willing to accept it from anyone, even with his face still branded in her mind. 

The kiss ended abruptly as Mara turned her face away. 

Kathryn’s forehead rested against her temple, her breaths rushing hot and swallow down Mara’s neck. 

“I’m not the one you want.” Mara whispered. 

“I know.” Kathryn said, leaning back, “I’m sorry.” 

Mara’s gaze slowly turned back to meet Kathryn’s. Her eyes were pained. 

“You don’t want me to stop.” Kathryn said. 

“But you need me to stop you.” Mara said, “This is one night, Captain. What about all the rest?” 

Kathryn turned away, wiping her wet cheeks with the back of her hand. Confusion, pain, and need pounded through her chest, each one competing to take her to the ground first. Tears were just as ready as arousal, orgasm just as ready as anger. But the answer to her every heave and groan of agony was far away, and hating her for her cruelty. 

“Some things are temporary.” Mara said, “What you have with him isn’t. Who am I to stand in the way?” 

Kathryn swung her gaze back to Mara, ready to snap at the mention of Chakotay. Mara had intimate knowledge of her now, and she could have used it. Instead, her eyes held only compassion. 

“Don’t do this mission, Captain.” Mara said, “There’s nothing that I want more than to explore the galaxy with you, but it’s not what you want. It never has been.” 

“I can’t resign from this commission.” Kathryn whispered, “We launch in two weeks. We’re-”

“Admiral Paris will forgive you. You’re friends, right?” 

“Yes, but-”

“Starfleet is going to be here when you get back.” Mara said, “It’s going to be here when we’re all dead and gone. He might not wait forever.” 

Kathryn stared at her, paralyzed by her suggestion. In all her agony, quitting had never occurred to her. It wasn’t in her book. She’d never resigned from anything. Except him. 

The road was splitting in front of her, Starfleet in one direction, Chakotay in the other. Which way she turned from here would change her life forever. Long ago, the answer would have been simple, but she’d lived with her mistakes long enough. She already knew what she had to do. 


	5. Chapter 5

 

If studying paleontology had changed Chakotay in any way, it was most profound in his refreshed need for space and privacy. 

Colonies of long ago had stretched across vast landscapes, where neighbors were miles apart, and family’s closest companions were the land they tilled and the animals they raised. In the twenty-fourth century, commodities like open land were few and far between. What wasn’t occupied by industrial food companies was crammed with rows upon rows of houses, shopping centers, office high-rises, and cities teeming with bodies. 

He longed for his old home, but it had long been taken over by Cardassian forces. There had been space there, and air to breathe, but he could never go back. 

Since their return to earth, he’d slowly begun building a new life. It started with his purchase of this small house in a quiet corner of Arizona. The land was rough with desert, ensuring that no commercial stockholders would come looking for a new investment. He’d put a lot of money into buying a personal transporter so that he could get to the college without the use of a vehicle. It was too far into the city for him to live close by. 

An outsider could have labeled his existence as lonely. And maybe, in between classes, and reading, and working, and living, when he turned the lights off and laid alone in bed, the dark vastness of the future rose up to intimidate him. Sometimes a voice in his ear whispered, “You’ll never be happy without her.” It was his own staunch pride that stomped out those lingering doubts, but there wasn’t a scrap of truth wrapped up in his indignation. 

The memories of their night in San Francisco followed him like ghosts, supplementing the agony of sleeping alone. He’d memorized the softness of her skin, the pale dash of freckles over her shoulders, and the rippling clutch of her thighs on either side of his head. The oceanic blue of her wide, dilated eyes peered from memory into the private torture of his soul, both teasing and sorrowful but never far away. He could still hear her thready moans as she rocked against him, bound up in ecstasy. 

Each detail was a microaggression against his sanity. Death by a thousand paper cuts. 

He forged on, channeling his frustrations into his studies. He was excelling, and for that he should have been overjoyed. But each high mark he received only elicited a sigh of relief. Another week gone, another step closer to his degree, an inch closer to his new life - one completely unrelated to Kathryn. 

Two months passed since the weekend retreat in San Francisco. He had taken a few courses over the summer, not wanting to let himself lapse into misery with time off; but even classes were not eternal. An entire month’s break between summer and fall yawned before him like an insurmountable chasm. 

He slogged through the first few days, at loss for meaning without the ritual of classes to keep him occupied. On the fourth day, he transported into the city for groceries, and stretched out the chore for as long as he could manage. He grew tired of walking down the aisles in search of nothing in particular, and returned home with his one, meager bag of purchases. 

He was lining the items methodically in their shelves when a knock on the front door jarred him to attention. He didn’t get many visitors, and besides, it was usually polite to call before showing up at someone’s door. 

He strode through the house, letting his annoyance build at whoever it was on his porch. The knocking came again just before he could get there, and he yanked the door open with unnecessary force. 

The threat burning on the back of his tongue came to a frozen halt. 

His tormenter stood just three feet from him, hardly the imposing, powerful woman he’d built her up to be in his mind. 

Kathryn fidgeted on his doorstep, her hands clenched together at her waist. The dry, desert wind plucked at her hair, dragging a few coppery strands across her anxious, blue eyes. She was out of Starfleet uniform, dressed in white trousers and a coral, v-neck sweater. She wasn’t carrying anything with her, as if she had dropped out of the sky and landed miraculously at his door. 

They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity before she offered him a limp smile. 

“May I come in?” 

He nodded haltingly, and stood aside. 

She stepped across the threshold, gaze circling his living space with subdued curiosity. One hand smoothed the hair back from her face, her finger elegantly curling behind her ear. Her cheeks were flushed with Arizona heat and apprehension. 

“I’m sorry if I startled you.” She said, turning back to meet his gaze, “It wasn’t my intention, I just-”

“Just what?” He pressed. 

Her tongue darted across her lower lip, and she avoided his searing gaze. 

He started across the room, wanting to take her by the shoulders. To shake her? To demand answers? To kiss her mouth with all the harsh need and frustration the last two months had doled out on him? 

“I had to see you.” She said, her eyes lifting meekly to his. 

Her mouth quivered, enticing him just as much as it angered him. She had snared him with her vulnerability once before, only to lash him for his stupidity the morning after. He swore to himself he wouldn’t fall for it again. 

“What changed your mind?” He asked. 

“A lot of things.”

She paused, a frown softly creasing her brow. She looked into the brunt of his impatient glare, her eyes softening with fledgling hope.

I’m not going on the mission.” She whispered, “I couldn’t go through with it.” 

Chakotay’s anger flagged as shock settled in. 

“What do you mean you’re not going?” 

“I resigned from the commission. Admiral Paris was stunned to say the least, but it doesn’t change my promotion to admiral. I’m staying here … on earth.”

“Why?” He asked, the word coming out breathless and strangled.

Her eyes dampened, and her brows quivered into a pained frown. 

“Chakotay,” She whispered, “You know why.” 

“You told me our careers were never going to change.” Chakotay said, “That it wouldn’t work.”

“I was wrong.” 

Chakotay gazed at her, emotions strangled any urge to speak. 

_ How dare you come here after what you’ve done?  _ He wanted to scream the words at her, but his tongue was paralyzed. He wanted to crush the excitement swelling beneath his breastbone. There was no cause for celebration when she had caused him such needless pain, when the answer had been so simple, when she’d had the power to come to this conclusion all along. 

“I’m so sorry.” She whispered, a tear slipping down her cheek, “I’ve been horrible to you. I can understand if you ask me to leave.” 

“You know I can’t do that.” 

She nodded stiffly, dashing the tear from her cheek with a smear of her finger. Eyes turning somber, she strode past him toward the front door. 

“I shouldn’t have come here.” She whispered. 

She grabbed the doorknob to leave, but Chakotay’s fingers curled around her arm. He dragged her around to face him, his gaze tracking over the familiar planes and creases of her face, the wide, misty set of her eyes, the shiver of her soft, pink lips. She trembled in his grasp, each little breath chipping away at his control. 

The dull hum of need swelled in the back of his mind, spilling into his nerve-endings and bloodstream, pumping the anticipation through his chest and down into his belly. 

The suspended moment shattered as he took her by face, and crushed her tender lips beneath a bruising kiss. She gasped against the demanding stroke of his mouth, her hands clutching at his chest in a poor show of resistance. As her mouth opened to his, and her body molded to the press of his chest, he shifted his hands down to clutch her hips. His fingers dug into the fabric of her pants, aching for the supple swell of her naked backside, for the give of tender flesh under his nails. 

She whimpered into his kiss, and reached for his neck. Her fingers curled into his nape, scraping tingling pleasure into his scalp with her nails and dragging his head down harder against her. Head falling back, she gave her throat to the drag and bite of his mouth. 

He pulled her around against the wall, pinning her in place with a hand spread over her jaw. His mouth scattered kisses and nibbles down the length of her throat, leaving the skin flushed and raw in his wake. When he reached her collarbones, he dragged the neckline of the sweater back to suckle at the smooth curve of her shoulder. 

Kathryn’s hands patted down his chest around his hips, reeling him in closer. Hooking a leg over his thigh, she brought their pelvises flush, and ground herself against the rising lump of his erection. 

Cupping her breasts through the sweater, he smeared a sloppy kiss below her ear. 

“I want you.” He panted, his voice strained and broken with desperation, “Goddamnit, Kathryn, this is what you do to me.” 

“I want you too.” She whispered, rolling her hips softly against him. 

He bit back a moan, and braced himself against the wall to steady his shaking legs. 

“Take me.” She murmured, tugging at the hem of the sweater. 

He pushed her hand away, and delved his fingers beneath the garment. His palm dragged across the stretched plane of her ribs, scaling each one as they expanded in gulping breaths. 

She nodded, biting at her lower lip in anticipation. 

Pulsing with unremitting need, he dragged the sweater up over her chest, barely waiting for her to lift her arms before he ripped it from her body. The garment was still in descent toward the floor when he reached behind her to unfasten her bra, and yank it from her arms. She spilled back against the wall, her breasts heaving with her exhilarated breaths, her nipples puckering hard and dusky. 

Chakotay paused, absorbing the sight of her leaning there, naked from the waist up, her usually tidy hair in disarray. Her cheeks glowed pink with desire, and her eyes held a dangerous glint. She’d come here for this, anticipated his needs, his actions. 

He wanted to punish her with this, but he longed for her whimpers and spasms of pleasure when his mouth was between her thighs. It was all he’d thought of in the past two months, the act that had invaded his dreams.

She reached out to touch him, but he pushed her hands back down to her sides. He crowded against her, breathing hot across her cheeks before he sealed her protests with a long, deep kiss. She quivered between him and the wall, arms lurching against his grip. 

His kiss broke from her mouth, trailing wetly over the clench of her jaw to her earlobe. 

“Be still.” He whispered. 

She stiffened, her breaths coming shallow and heavy through flared nostrils. 

He took the front of her trousers in his fingers, and opened each button and zipper with decisive force. Her steely eyes rose to his, but she did not move. 

He took the trousers down with a pull, and she lifted each foot to let him kick them away. Her knees quivered as his fingertips brushed against her stomach, catching on the elastic of her panties. 

She lifted her chin, daring him with a flashing gaze. 

He slid his fingers below the fabric, working it over the swell of her hips until the last scrap of decency fell away. Trembling under the heat of his gaze, she plastered her hands to the wall and clenched her thighs together. 

Chakotay’s hand ghosted over her hip as he sank to his knees in front of her. 

Her chest rose with a sharp inhale, and her eyes widened. One hand darted from the wall to curl through his hair as he brushed his lips down the center of her stomach. He touched her knee, and she fell open to him, as malleable as liquid under his caress. 

Nuzzling lower, he inhaled the sweet scent of her need. HIs fingers traveled along her inner thigh, searching out the wetness pulsing and gathering. She spread her legs wider, gasping before he even touched her. Her fingers clutched around his hair as he dragged his fingertips between her soft, wet folds, and stopped just short of her clitoris. 

He peeked up at her, catching her biting her lip and squeezing her eyes shut. He couldn’t help but smile as he leaned in to breathe over her wet, throbbing skin, and she reacted with a high-pitched whimper. 

She threw her leg over his shoulder, digging her heel into the middle of his back to drag him closer. Her hips jutted forward, delivering her sweet, dripping pussy to his waiting mouth. He took her between his lips, suckling along the tender folds and smearing his tongue over the swollen bud of her clitoris in one, lavish motion. 

Moaning low, she rocked into the swirl of his tongue. Her nails dug into his scalp, ensuring his mouth didn’t leave her again until she reached orgasm. 

He didn’t have any intention of stopping, though; with foreplay aside, he threw his every effort into this erotic reclamation of her body, this affirmation of their dependence on one another. He lapped firm and steady at her clitoris, and she melted and gushed, moaning in muted and strangled sounds of approaching climax. Her hips shuddered with every stroke, the ripple spreading through her body and out to her extremities. Rising to her toes, she arched against the wall in a reach for orgasm, her body plastered flushed and pink against the stark white paint. 

She could not have been more his in this moment, yet he craved to consume her with a need that wouldn’t be satisfied. He dragged his hands over her hips and around to claim her backside, squeezing with aching need. He pulled her closer, all but devouring the wet, pulsating flesh between her thighs.

She twisted against him, her fingers pulling at his hair and scraping over his scalp. Low, husky breaths rushed from her throat between strangled moans of desperation. Her hips went rigid against his mouth, belly quivering with racing pleasure. Her breasts swelled over a trapped breath locked behind her lips in unbroken concentration. 

The anticipatory silence stretched on as his tongue stroked in a firm, rapid pace against her engorged, aching clitoris. The pressure built between her hips, one ripple after another working it’s way through her until with a final swirl of his tongue, the pleasure came in hard a lurch of her body. She gasped, fingers clutching white-knuckled around his hair. The orgasm wound it’s way through her, and she thrust against his mouth through every exquisite second of bliss, spilling wet heat over his tongue. He lapped it from her, uttering his own low sound of satisfaction below her high-pitched whimpers. 

She sank down against him, letting his arms bear the full weight of her limp, pleasure strewn body. 

He lowered her down against his chest, and held her. His anger dispelled as she cuddled up against him, her body soft and warm in his embrace. 

“You’re too good to me, Chakotay.” She whispered. 

Cradling her cheek, he tilted her head back to look into her eyes. Faint tears glinted at the corners of her eyes. 

“Did you expect me to hurt you?” 

“No, but you should.” 

He pressed his mouth over hers before she suggest any other such thing. She leaned into the kiss, her hands clutching at the front of his shirt. He kissed hard against her lower lip, and pulled back with a soft moan. 

“I still want you.” He whispered, “More now than before, if that makes sense.”

“It doesn’t.” She said, reaching for his belt buckle, “But I feel the same way.”

She pulled the buckle open, and thumbed open the button of his pants. He squeezed her hips as the zipper slid down, and her hand snaked inside to cradle his erection. 

“God.” He whispered, his eyes slipping shut against the surge of pleasure. 

She stroked him through the fabric of his boxers for a moment before peeling the elastic back to find naked skin. He bit back a moan as his body raced, his cock lunging to meet the warm, soft stroke of her hand. 

Her fingertips traced the throbbing length, the feathery touch pulling his stomach taut with pounding need. His fingers curled tighter around her hips, pulling the inviting heat of her body closer. He looked down to see his cock rising from the bunched material of his boxers and pants, her long, delicate fingers stroking him in a languid rhythm. He clamped his eyes shut as his body threatened to throw him over the edge with that tiny glimpse. 

With a low growl, he lifted her from his lap and guided her back against the smooth, hardwood floor. Her fingers reached for his cock as he prowled over her, pushing her legs open wide to make room for his body. He pushed the trousers down his thighs, freeing his cock to bob rigid and throbbing against his belly. Their hands collided at the base of his cock, both of them reaching to guide him to her. He let her fingers curl around him, pulling him down and into her. 

Kathryn gasped softly as he penetrated her deeply in the first stroke. Her body clenched around him, heat and wetness cascading over his senses. He fell to his elbows over her, trembling with the pleasure that rose up to swallow him. A moan wrenched from his throat and echoed through his ears like a foreign sound. The pain of last two months fell away, forgotten in the breadth of a second. The joy and pleasure of that evening in San Francisco wrapped around him, dragging him up from the depths of despair to the heights of satisfaction. Euphoria flooded him like a drug; there was no room for questioning this feeling, this absolute contentment, even if it was so fleeting, so utterly temporary to an unbiased eye. 

She was writhing and moaning beneath the steady thrust of his hips, everything he’d thought about for two lonely months and more. Her hair spilled in an auburn halo around her flushed cheeks, and her soft, pink lips parted in a erotic gasps. Her eyes reached his, heavy-lidded and glazed with pleasure; the single look that could steal his breath, his strength, his will unwound the bindings of his anger to reach into his heart. 

He was bent into her kiss with helpless compulsion, letting her mouth whittle away the last, crumbling hurdles of his defenses. Her legs curled around his waist, pulling him flush against her. His hips rocked into the warmth of her body, each stroke coming frantic and propelled by his eager, gasping breaths. 

She pulled his face down into the cradle of her neck as he shuddered against her, the pleasure coming like a low tide and dragging him under. He slipped into the pulsating warmth, the spectacular light erupting behind his eyes, the surge of satisfactory relief as his body finally gave way to the pressure and ache. 

They lay in a heap of tangled limbs and coalescing heat and fluid, their breaths counting out a staccato rhythm of passing moments. Kathryn’s fingers moved through his hair in a soothing circle, his only reminder of physical existence. His mind was far this single moment, entranced more by the history that had brought them here.

Strange how circular life could be, no matter how straight a course he plotted. Strange how one look could shatter his resolve; but perhaps it had never been a mystery, only the truth they’d been avoiding. 

After some time, Kathryn began to move beneath him. Her hand patted at his shoulder, and he rolled to let her up from the hardwood. 

She gathered her legs under her, and rose unsteadily, one hand drifting to her forehead in disorientation. She stumbled down the hall to the bathroom, shutting the door behind her with a resolute bang. 

Chakotay stared at the ceiling, ears straining for the sound of her movements. When another five minutes had passed without her return, he rose to his feet. 

Knocking on the bathroom door, he leaned against the frame to listen for her reply. There was none. 

He knocked again. 

“Kathryn.” 

The knob turned, and the door creaked open by a few inches. She peered out at him, her eyes wide and nervous. 

“Are you okay?” He asked. 

She nodded. 

Pulling the door open farther, she let him inside, and leaned over the sink with a heavy sigh. 

“I didn’t come here to seduce you.” She whispered.

“I know.” He replied, “But I’m glad you did.” 

She let out a hoarse laugh, one of relief, of disbelief. 

He smoothed her hair back against her neck, and bent to press a kiss to her shoulder. With his mouth nuzzled in the curve of her neck and shoulder, he met her gaze in the mirror. 

“I can’t hold onto this anger anymore.” He murmured. 

“You have every right to.” 

“But I don’t want to.” 

She twisted around to face him, her expression marked with desperation. 

“I want to believe this fixes everything.” She said, “But I’m not that naive, and neither are you. It’s not as simple as kissing and making up.”

“No, but we’ve always committed ourselves to working together when we’re facing a challenge.” 

“When we’re facing an alien invasion or an attack on our people.” She said, scoffing, “We’re not exactly batting a thousand when it comes to our personal relationship.” 

“This isn’t our first argument.” He said, “And I know it won’t be the last. But we’ve survived through it before.” 

“You believe still in us?” 

He touched her cheek as a tiny, hopeful smile tugged her mouth. 

“I always have.” 

Their mouths joined in a slow, smoldering kiss. Kathryn reached back to support herself against the edge of the sink as his mouth pressed hard and passionate over hers. 

She drew back abruptly, her eyes searching his face. 

“We’ve just had sex, and you’re not thinking clearly.” She said, “What if you wake up tomorrow morning, and you look at me and remember how mad you were? What if you hate me tomorrow?” 

“Then I guess I’ll have to keep kissing you until I don’t anymore.” 

She let out a breath, and gave a tilted smile. Her fingers stroked the curve of his jaw fondly. 

“I love you.” She murmured. 

“I love you, too.” 

Their lips met again, softer this time as he wound his arms around her and dragged her into an embrace. Her mouth dragged across his cheek, and to his ear, breathing a shuddering exhale of relief. 

“Whatever happens, promise you’ll make love to me tomorrow like you did just now.” She whispered. 

“Tomorrow, and every day after that.” 

He sealed the promise with a kiss, pressing years of pent up emotion and need against her quivering mouth. This tiny moment would soon be eclipsed by the great, swallowing motion of time and space, but to him, it was the only one that mattered. The yawning mouth of the future flickered with a trembling flame of hope, the promise of so much more. They would go into that light together, and wherever it led, it was going to be beautiful.

 

~the end~

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! :)
> 
> You can also find me on [Tumblr!](http://clairehales.tumblr.com//)!


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